


Isn't It Obvious?

by ghostbunny



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Hawke, M/M, Music AU, POV First Person, Pining, Sexual Content, basically just pure fluff, everyone is friends with everyone - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-01 11:29:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20257381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostbunny/pseuds/ghostbunny
Summary: In which Hawke and Anders are regulars at The Hanged Man’s monthly music night and Anders is the only person who doesn’t know about Hawke’s ‘secret’ crush. Featuring: drunken musical shenanigans, incompetent wingmen, ill-timed confessions and rather a lot of fluff.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this story came from the song I Got Drunk by Miya Folick. It seemed like a cute and silly rom-com idea that I could write as a quick one shot. Now I wonder if I'll ever think to write one of those and manage to keep it under 20000 words. The rest of the story will go up over the next few days as I finish editing it.  
Let's not think too hard about the modern Thedas setting and the references to real musicians.

Music night at The Hanged Man is often a rowdy affair. Not that rowdy isn't a good descriptor for the pub on any given weekend; it's a bit of a dive but, even so, it's well known as the best pub in Kirkwall. But the music nights, in particular, have gained a level of fame that brings what usually feels like half of Lowtown out once a month to cram together in one small room to make a lot of noise and just have a good time. 

It’s not quite an open mic night because that suggests a level of prior organisation that isn’t really involved. In fact, there isn’t ever a microphone to be seen. It’s more of a _ bring some instruments and if you can hold a tune then let’s hear it _kind of deal. I’ve been going since it first started and it’s become something of a monthly tradition amongst my group of friends. No matter how busy we get, we’ll always make an effort to meet up on the first Saturday of every month. 

I show up on this particular Saturday with Fenris. The two of us share a flat in Hightown so we tend to make the walk down to Lowtown together. As long as we’re still reasonably early, it doesn’t really tend to matter how long we take getting there. Either Varric, Isabela or both of them will inevitably be there, already saving us a seat. 

When we arrive, Merrill is there too. Her fiddle is in its case, propped up against her chair. It’ll probably be a while before the music starts as we usually chat over our first pints and wait for the place to fill up a bit. I find a corner to safely store my guitar until it’s needed. 

It feels good to be back. Not just at The Hanged Man because, I’ll admit, I probably spend more time here than is really good for my wallet (blame Varric for living in the flat above the pub for that) but Music Night has a different feel to it. I grew up on folk music back in Ferelden, playing at the pub with my dad. I lived in the kind of small village where you could apparently get away with taking your kid to the pub and keeping him there until long past the legal closing time. I loved it. I loved getting to play with other people like that and just having fun with it. I still do. It was just a bit different for a while after Dad died and we moved to the Free Marches. 

So when Varric suggested making music night at The Hanged Man a regular thing, I couldn’t get enough of the idea. It made the city start to feel more like home for the first time since moving here. Over the years, more and more people seemed to agree and it only got better for it. It soon became more than just our small group playing in the corner. Stop for a breather and someone else will be more than happy to take over for a while. 

Varric doesn’t work at The Hanged Man, he just lives there. It’s a little strange, but wonderfully convenient. While Fenris heads to the bar to get the next round in, I head upstairs with Varric to help him bring down the instruments he keeps up in his flat. He doesn’t seem to actually play any of them, though there is a piano downstairs that he’s been known to play on occasion. Apparently, he just keeps the rest of these instruments – guitars, banjos, mandolins, trumpets and various other things – around for the convenience of others. There are a lot of weird and wonderful things in Varric’s flat. It’s fascinating to look at really. 

We’re deciding what things to bring down with us when Varric asks me, all casual, “So, will Blondie be joining us this evening?” 

He means Anders. Who is not the only person yet to show up tonight but he’s the only one Varric will ask me about. Some people say that I talk about Anders a bit too much but I’m not really sure what to do with that when the same people are so willing to bring up the subject all by themselves. 

“I assume so,” I say back, just as casually. I actually sent Anders a text yesterday, asking just that and several hours later got back a _ yeah, definitely! _ which usually mean s anything from _ yeah, definitely! _ to _ possibly, maybe? _ depending on how bogged down with work Anders is right now. I haven’t seen him in a while to know for certain. But it seems a safe bet to assume he really means to come. While there are a lot of things I’ve tried to persuade him to join in with, only to have him bail, or just plain refuse because he’s too busy, music nights are the one time he always makes a special effort to join in. 

“You speak to him, lately?” 

“Uh, a little.” I don’t get to speak to Anders often because he’s always so busy being a fucking genius. When he’s not learning to be a doctor, he’s doing volunteer work, helping refugees or the homeless. And then there’s the part time job he works on top of all that. It’s pretty awe inspiring really. I give Varric a look that I hope isn’t too obvious. “Why, have you?” 

“Nope,” Varric replies evenly, “but then, I’m not the one with the hopeless crush.” 

“Hey!” I complain, giving Varric a wounded look. “Hopeless? That’s a bit harsh.” 

“Hawke, as long as you refuse to do anything about it, it’s always going to be hopeless. I’m just being realistic.” 

“Not necessarily true. He could always make the first move.” 

Wishful thinking, there. A lot of it. 

“That’s assuming he’s not just as bad at romance as you are.” 

“That’s really not fair. Anyway, who asked you?” I was really trying not to let him get onto this topic. It's becoming a monthly thing and it never helps as much as Varric seems to think it will. 

“You need to tell him how you feel. You see the guy once a month and then you spend the rest of your time pining over him. It’s time to take action.” 

“Where are you getting this? I don’t _ pine _.” 

I know exactly where he’s getting this. Last Friday night I got obscenely drunk and spent a good hour with Varric bemoaning the text I’d sent to Anders earlier in the week that I'd received no reply to. I don’t remember much of what I said but Varric was more than happy to fill me in when I woke up on his couch the following morning. Why can’t Varric ever get drunk enough to forget these things? He’d probably be much better off not having to think about how his closest friend is a grown man with no ability to reason that sometimes people are just busy and forget to do simple things like replying to messages. I do it all the time. Not with Anders but... my brother Carver, definitely. 

And Anders did reply. Yesterday morning. Better late than never, right? 

“Hawke,” Varric says, looking me in the eye. “Tonight’s the night. _ Tell him _.” 

I mean, I could but...

The thing is, while I've never outright told Anders how I feel about him, I don't think I've ever actively tried to hide it from him either. We've flirted on occasion. But after a year of knowing one another, it's never gone further than that. I don't know what it is that holds me back. I suppose the moment has never felt quite right. Or maybe I'm just a coward. In any case, I'm more or less resigned to it at this point.

It's all very pitiful, really. 

We bring a few things down and we're ready for the music to get underway. As we make our way into the main room of the pub, I see Merrill taking her fiddle out of its case. She's talking to Sebastian, who must have arrived while we were upstairs. I head over to say hello before getting back to my seat. Fenris nods to the pint he got me while I was upstairs and I grin my thanks. Then a few of us, Merrill, Sebastian and I, for now, pick up our instruments and music night gets off to a start. 

It’s not a rule that the music played on these nights is restricted to folk, that just seems to be a popular choice among those who attend. When Merrill and I are playing together we tend to keep it traditional because we’ve both grown up playing that stuff. Sebastian’s pretty into it too, so he’ll join in. He’s also got a good voice so sometimes he’ll sing and anyone who wants to can join in with the choruses. Fenris is good at singing, really good. But we tend to have to get a few pints in him before we can coax him into doing so in front of everyone. Isabela has no such reservations. She teaches us sea-shanties and gets the whole room to join in. Varric mostly just tells stories, ones that never fail to get everyone to fall quiet and listen. Nobody seems to mind that it’s not technically music. 

Aveline and Donnic show up not long after the music starts and when we finish the song we were playing we stop to say hello properly. It doesn’t take long for someone in another group across the room to take a turn. 

“Hey, Big Girl,” Isabela says when Aveline has taken a seat. She has a glint in her eye that I don’t like the look of. “We’ll be calling in a favour tonight. Just want to give you a heads up.” 

Aveline stops before taking a sip of her ale and frowns. “I don’t remember owing you any,” she replies warily. 

Isabela raises an eyebrow. “Oh? Not even for the copper marigolds?” 

Aveline scowls a little but her cheeks have turned pink. Beside her, Donnic’s eyebrows go up. No doubt he remembers the incident well. “It was Hawke that I asked for help with that. You were just there to complain and throw around insults, as I recall.” 

“You say that like you weren’t giving back as good as you got. Not the point though. Hawke’s the one who needs the favour.” 

“Wait, what?” I say, startled. But I should have known it. I wasn’t following any conversations earlier while I was playing because I was focusing on the music, but it would have been difficult not to notice Isabela and Varric’s heads together while that was going on. Definitely plotting something. 

“I call it Operation: _ Get _ _ The _ _ Idiots To Notice What’s Right Under Their Noses – Part Two. _” She pauses, then adds, “You two were Part One.” She gestures vaguely between Donnic and Aveline. Just in case they hadn’t picked up on that. 

“Wait, what?” I repeat. Then, sternly, “_ Varric... _” 

“It’s out of my hands now, Hawke.” Varric leans back in his chair, folding his arms over his broad chest. “Last week was the final straw. I was half tempted to let you drunk call him at four a.m. just to finally have it over with.” 

“But... But... I thought you were my friend.” 

“That’s why this has to be done. For the sake of our friendship.” 

“Are we talking about Hawke and Anders?” Merrill pipes up curiously. “Are you going to tell Anders how you feel about him, Hawke?” 

When did this become public knowledge? Have I drunkenly cried about Anders to every one of my friends and Varric is just the only one who thought to remind me about it afterwards? 

“No!” I insist. I scan the faces gathered around our two small corner tables, looking for the voice of reason. “Fenris?” 

“It is getting tiresome to watch, Hawke,” Fenris supplies drily. 

Right. Very reasonable. 

Sebastian nods along. “Honesty is always a good policy. I’m sure you’ll feel better once you’ve come clean, so to speak.” 

“Uh huh,” I say doubtfully. As a last resort, I turn my eyes to Aveline and Donnic. 

Donnic is smiling. Aveline looks thoughtful. She turns to Isabela. “What did you have in mind?” 

Not Aveline too. Now I know it’s bad. 

“What we need to do is give them an opening. They never get a chance to talk because every time they see each other they’re playing those damn guitars.” 

“Hey!” I like my guitar. 

Isabela ignores me. “Take away the guitars and they’ll _ have _ to talk to each other.” She shrugs. Simple. 

Two things I can’t believe: one is that they don’t even have the decency to plot this behind my back; the second is that they even think I’m going to willingly let them take away my guitar. 

“I _ like _ playing music with Anders!” I explain. 

Did I mention that on top of being smart and caring, Anders is really fucking good at music? It blows my mind that he can stay that good and study for a medical degree _ and _ do all that volunteer work at the same time. When does he get time to sleep? _ Does _ he ever sleep? In any case, playing with him is probably the highlight of my month. Which, okay, yes, it’s probably kind of sad but I don’t know if I care about that. We’re just... weirdly in tune with each other. We don’t even get time to practice together and somehow it always works. 

“You can go without for one weekend,” Isabela states firmly. 

“Um. No.” 

“You’ll thank us for it later,” says Varric. I glare at him. 

“Our job,” Isabela glances around the table at everyone gathered, “is to enforce the rule. No hiding behind instruments. Tonight, they face their feelings like men.” 

I can’t help but feel sceptical. “We’re going to do what?” 

“No excuses.” 

I look around at each of them, searching for any hint of weakness. 

“What about a mandolin?” I try. “Can I have a mandolin?” 

Fenris gets up, picks one out of a case and hands it to me. 

“Get it out of your system.” 

I'm in the middle of playing when Anders finally arrives. I'm pretty focused on what I'm doing but I notice all the same. He stands out. Well, to me he does. He's tall, kind of thin, his t-shirt and jeans look a little oversized and pretty worn. I don't know what it is about him that I'm so in to. Just that I really _ am _ into it. His jaw is covered in a layer of stubble, dark blond hair pulled back into a messy bun. His eyes look tired. They meet mine from across the room and he smiles. 

I have a thought that Varric and Isabela might have been on to something earlier, after all. Not about confiscating my guitar because, no, that's not happening. But perhaps I should try talking to Anders. Properly. I could, at the very least, try to gauge the situation and start to _ think _ about whether telling him how I feel might actually be an option. 

Well, it would be a start. 

Anders has wandered over towards the bar and there’s a bit of a queue but he doesn’t seem to be trying to get through too quickly. He’s got his back turned to it. His eyes on me. Or well, on me and the three other people I’m playing together with right now. I’m just sneaking glances, trying not to break concentration and make even more of a tit out of myself in front of these assholes who call themselves my friends. 

As the song finishes, I glance up at him again and see him smile and clap a little. I feel a gentle tug on the instrument in my hand and before I realise what’s happening, the mandolin I’ve been playing is removed from my grasp. I look to see it now clasped in Merrill’s hands. 

“I think you’re in need of another drink, Hawke,” says Varric. 

“No, I’ve still got...” I look around just as the pint glass that had been closest to me is swept away by Isabela, who promptly downs the rest of its contents. 

“Well,” I say, not sure why I’m at all surprised, “don’t think for a second that I’m including any of _ you _ in this round.” 

I get up and weave my way through the crowded tables towards the bar. The truth is that I barely needed the excuse to go and talk to Anders. I’ve missed him. Not that I would admit that to anyone. Not that anyone apparently needs me to admit it, since they all seem to be perfectly aware of my every thought already. 

I wonder if Anders knows. The way I feel. Am I that obvious? 

I make my way over to him where he stands at the back of the queue by the bar. He's turned back towards it now that the music has stopped so he doesn’t see me approach. I move to stand beside him and offer a cheerful, “Hey!” 

He turns his head and grins at me. “Hawke! Good to see you.” 

“You too.” I smile back at him fondly. I tell him, “Isabela stole my drink.” 

“Rude of her,” he comments with some amusement. “Targeting you while you provide entertainment for us out of the sheer goodness of your heart. That’s a new low, even for her.” 

I laugh. “My thoughts exactly. Seems they’re all determined to torture me today.” 

Anders quirks an eyebrow. “How so?” 

I realise my mistake immediately, while simultaneously realising the brilliance of Varric and Isabela’s evil scheme. I can’t explain to Anders what’s going on without admitting to my feelings for him. My only options are to play dumb or come clean. 

“Ha... who knows,” I say awkwardly. Anders gives me a funny look so I add, “I think I might have done something particularly stupid while I was very drunk last weekend and Varric is determined to hold it over my head.” 

“Do I even want to know?” Anders asks. 

“Probably not,” I reply. Then, relieved to be given an out, I swiftly continue, “Anyway, they’re not getting a thing out of me until they buck up their ideas. You’re the only one left on my side.” 

Anders smirks at me. “How do you know that?” 

I smile and shrug. “I trust you.” I pause before adding, “Also, I’m not above bribery. Come on, what are you having?” 

He laughs. “Tempting offer. Though there’s really no need for it.” 

I insist and eventually, Anders gives in and says that he's happy with whatever I'm having. With our drinks in hand, we move away from the bar and I see that our table, where the music has started up again, has been occupied by a few newcomers that I recognise as music night regulars. They've taken my seat and the spare one that would have gone to Anders. 

Well, that’s fine, I decide. I don’t need a group of meddlesome friends to keep me company. I have Anders. 

Sort of. 

Unfortunately, there isn’t another seat to be had in the place. So we opt for a space by the wall where we can talk without getting in anyone’s way. 

“How’ve you been?” I ask Anders. It’s been so long since we’ve talked properly that I’m genuinely curious. 

He groans. “Honestly? I’m thanking the Maker for a night off from it all.” 

“That bad?” 

“Hmm... It’s just a lot. Especially with exams coming up. It’s not that I’m not grateful for the opportunity. It’s what I always wanted to do and for years I thought I’d blown my chances. But...” he sighs. “I shouldn’t complain. I knew it was going to be hard work when I started.” 

“You can complain to me all you want. I’m in no position to judge; you know I just teach music to kids in Hightown. Amongst other things... Not that I'm trying to rub it in,” I chuckle. 

He smiles. “Tried anything interesting recently?” 

The music teacher job is a good one but it can get a little slow at times so I tend to make up for it with whatever odd jobs I can find, often that’s in the form of gigs at local pubs but I do tend to mix it up a bit here and there. "Let's see, there's the dog-walking. That's becoming more regular now. And it's pretty fun. Oh, I gave life modelling a go a few weeks ago." 

I raise my eyebrows and Anders snorts a laugh. “Seriously?” 

“It’s a lot trickier than it looks. Some of those poses are long. And it gets cold. I don’t think I thought it through really.” 

Anders is still chuckling. He’s giving me a look that makes me wonder if I've intrigued him more than I expected to with this topic. Does talking about semi-public nudity count as flirting? 

He asks, “What do the parents of the kids you teach in Hightown think of that?” 

"Hey, there's nothing dodgy about it! If people want to study the beauty of the human form, who am I to prevent them? Though I'll say, it does get a bit awkward when you go to the shops after and the girl behind the counter can't look you in the eye and you realise it's because she's an art student who's recently spent three hours staring at your dick." 

Anders throws back his head and laughs even harder. I’m grinning, appreciating the sight of it when I catch a glimpse of Isabela in the background giving me a thumbs up. I ignore her. Then I realise that if Isabela’s watching me they probably all are. 

What if they’re placing bets on how this turns out? _ Maker’s balls _, that’s absolutely something they would do. 

“So, what’s the verdict?” Anders asks, once his laughter has subsided. “Will you be going back again?” 

“Eh, we’ll see. Why?” I raise an eyebrow, feeling brave. “Want me to let you know if I do? I think classes are generally closed to non-art students but who knows, maybe they’d be willing to bend the rules and let someone from another department in. You could always say that it’s for science if you’re desperate.” 

He laughs some more and I wonder if his cheeks have turned faintly pink or if I'm just imagining it. “Unfortunately, I doubt it works that way.” 

I can’t help but smile at the _ unfortunately _, though I'm not entirely sure if he means it, or if it's just playful banter. I guess the latter and my bravery falls short of suggesting that there are other ways he could go about seeing me naked if he so wished. Instead, I just shrug. "Your loss." He chuckles again. 

I take a gulp of my drink and after a moment, Anders nods over to the others in the corner who still have possession of the instruments. “You up for playing some more later?” 

"Uh, yeah," I say and I wonder how I'm going to get around this without having to explain to him about our friends' ridiculous scheme to get us together. "I mean if that lot ever decide they're willing to let us re-join the group. In that case, I'm all for it." 

Anders gives me a suspicious look. “Just what did you do last weekend to deserve banishment from the corner tables?” 

"Haha! No. You gave up your chance to get that out of me. I'm saying nothing." 

“I suppose I could always just ask Varric.” 

“No, you can’t. I bribed you, remember? With ale. Does that mean nothing to you? You’re on Team Hawke tonight. No defections.” 

Anders holds up his hands. “Okay, okay. I’m with you, brave leader. Though I think we might need to stage a rescue mission for the instruments that are being held hostage over there.” 

“Oh shit,” I say, not sure why I didn’t think of that myself. “Anders, I like how you think.” 

“Of course you do. I’m the brains of this operation, aren’t I?” 

I laugh. “Does that make me the beauty or the brawn?” 

Anders just grins and winks at me without answering. 

I’m sort of embarrassed to admit how much the sight of that affects me. 

Anyway. 

We begin to plot until we decide that more ale is needed to fuel our plan-making. Which proves to be something of a distraction from the mission. Especially because there are a lot of people here and we end up getting drawn into more than one conversation with the various people we meet on the way to and from the bar. And the more drinks we get through, the more new friends we seem to end up making. Without noticing, we end up forgetting about the mission and, at some point, without quite realising how, I've ended up back at my original table, just in a different spot from where I started, wedged in between Merrill and Isabela. 

I think Isabela ended up just as distracted as I was. Mid-way through our conversation, she stops and looks between me and Anders, who is on the other side of the table, chatting with some of those lovely new friends we made and brought back with us to show our other friends. 

“Hold on,” she says. “This wasn’t the plan.” 

“The plan is bullshit,” I tell her. 

“No. The plan is fool-proof.” She gives me a squinty sort of frown. “Why are you resisting it? It’s not every day you have access to such fine quality wingmen.” 

This makes me giggle because they’re so useless and I don’t think they even know it. 

Then I hear, “Wingmen?” It’s Anders, looking confused. “Did I hear that right? Who are you setting Hawke up with?” 

I don’t even know how to react to that. I think I’m too surprised by the sheer inconvenience of Anders overhearing that, of all sentences, to even panic about it. I look from Anders to Isabela, fully ready for her to make my secret known to the world. Well, to the one person who apparently doesn’t already know. (Yeah, yeah, not really a secret then...) 

But Isabela just looks at us and then bursts out laughing. Like really laughing. Crying laughing. And then I start to think that it actually is pretty funny, so I start laughing too. Then we’re both giggling away and Anders is just sitting there looking bemused and probably wishing he hadn’t bothered to ask. I don’t blame him. 

Once the laughter has fully subsided, Anders seems content to change the subject and says, “Hey, let’s play something. Before you’re too far gone to know which way up your guitar goes.” 

“Yes!” I reply because that’s a fantastic idea. 

“Not the plan...” Isabela protests weakly. But Anders is already up and he’s managed to get several people to scoot around so that we both have a bit more room. Then he manages to get my guitar back from whoever had it and he has Sebastian’s for himself. Soon enough, we have foiled the plan. I should have known that no one would really care enough to hold Anders and myself to the stupid _ no music on music night _ rule. 

Anders and I have the usual repertoire that we tend to go to but we're also pretty happy to mix it up and improvise here and there. It starts off just the two of us. I sing and Anders backs me up. Eventually, Merrill joins in as well and soon enough we're at the point in the night where we can even coax Fenris to sing something. He's so good he gets most of the room to fall quiet, listening to him. Following that, Anders and I take a break and Isabella and Merrill take centre stage, performing an oddly soothing acapella version of _ Sexual Healing _ . The end of the song is met with an enthusiastic round of applause that has Isabela on her feet, taking a bow. Then Merrill looks at me and makes a request that I usually have to be pretty drunk to accept. I figure I'm there by now but I need Varric for this. I find him by the bar and he agrees to play the piano while I do a suitably theatrical rendition of _ Babooshka _. 

Once that's over, I follow Isabela's lead and take a bow. Then someone buys me a drink and I get caught up in conversation for a while before I can get back to the table. When I do return to the rest of the group, Merrill and Anders seem to be planning something. They spend a little while working out the logistics of something they apparently agreed to try last month and then they launch into a cover of a Mariah Carey song that is no less brilliant for being slightly rough around the edges. Anders is really going for it, playing his guitar and belting out, _ it’s just a sweet, sweet fantasy baby! _It’s so unexpected that I’m near tears laughing while simultaneously in awe of his brilliance. His eyes are bright with laughter when they meet mine as I applaud him once it’s over. 

We allow another group to take over the music for a while and we’re all still reeling from Merrill and Anders’ surprise collaboration. Though I suppose I’m really not at all surprised that Anders has a secret fondness for cheesy pop music. There’s such a good feeling surrounding our table now. Not that there hasn’t been for most of the night, but now I take the time to look around and appreciate seeing my friends together like this, having such an obviously good time. And now I’m getting sentimental... 

I let my gaze linger on Anders, who is sitting across from me, talking to Aveline much more amiably than I'm used to seeing the two of them. He looks happy and he's so much more relaxed now than he was when he arrived earlier. I'm pleased that he allows himself this because I know he pushes himself far too hard most of the time. I think he needs the outlet more than he realises. I see him laugh and, wow, I must really be in a state because I'm momentarily overwhelmed by how bad I've got it for this man. I mean, I knew I was harbouring a crush – that I have been for a while – but, right at this moment, I really feel as though it's starting to get out of hand. 

I think about Varric and Isabela's plan and wonder why I've been so determined not to let it play out properly. Would it have been such a bad thing to go along with it for a little while longer, to see if they might have been on to something? We've only known each other for a little over a year and we don't get to talk that often. But when we do, we get on really well. Like, amazingly well. And there has been definite flirting. The only reason it hasn't gone any further than that may be exactly what Isabela said it was down to and it's the music that's getting in the way. Because we can hardly stop and make out while we're singing bloody _ Simon & Garfunkel _ covers to a room full of people. 

Anders turns to look at me and lifts a questioning eyebrow because it probably looks like I’ve got something to say. Maybe I do. I suppose that now would probably be a good time to stop staring at him but it turns out I'm really fucking drunk so that’s not what I do. What I do is, I open my mouth and I say, “I think I might be in love with you.” 

Anders gives me a slightly confused look and then he says something that I don't catch because someone is playing the guitar at the table next to ours and with that and the sheer number of people crammed into one small room, it's really loud in here. He laughs and I don't know what to say. I don't know what to think. Because it's slowly dawning on me that, not only did I really just say that, I said it in front of _ everyone _. The realisation is horribly sobering. 

The only thing that manages to offer me any comfort is that not everyone seemed to be paying attention to my little announcement. Aveline is sitting next to Anders and seems utterly unaware of the situation. She says something to him and he allows his attention to be turned away from me and I don’t know if I’m relieved by that or... I don’t know. 

Slowly, I look around and I'm greeted with the unpleasant realisation that maybe not everyone noticed what just happened, but Isabela, who is sitting next to me, certainly heard the whole thing. She's staring at me, open-mouthed. I don't think I've ever seen her lost for words before. I feel slightly ill. 

I handle the situation the way I figure most people would. I get to my feet and run for it. Well, I don’t actually run. There are too many people about to gain any momentum and besides my coordination is suffering slightly at the moment. I make a beeline for the terrace out back which I know will be packed with people smoking and therefore not actually private but I’m hoping that I’ll at least find a quiet dark corner where I can wallow. 

When I get out, I have to brush off a few attempts at conversation with the people I recognise out there but I do eventually manage to get to my corner. I lean against a railing overlooking the car park and try to process what just happened. 

I don’t get far with that before Isabela shows up, with Merrill in tow. Does that mean Merrill heard the whole thing too? I don’t think it’s possible to feel any more mortified than I already am, so seeing her looking at me kindly with those big wide eyes doesn’t make much difference to my general mood. 

“If it helps,” Isabela begins, “I really think he just didn’t hear what you said.” 

“It’s true,” agrees Merrill. “It really was very loud back there and that didn’t look like a rejection to me. I’m sure he would have been nicer about it if it had been. Let you down gently, you know.” 

I shake my head glumly. "Really? Because to me, it seems pretty fucking plausible that he was just laughing the whole thing off. What else are you supposed to do when your friend starts making embarrassing public declarations of love to you?" 

The look Isabela gives me is not very sympathetic. “Well, what did he say?” 

I shrug in a way that I think can only really be described as morose. 

“You didn’t hear him?” 

I shake my head. Isabela turns to Merrill with a look that says, _ can you believe this guy? _

Merrill says gently, “Don’t you think that just makes it more likely that he didn’t hear you either?” 

The noise I make is more like a whine than actual words. 

Merrill steps closer and pats me on the arm. “There, there... don’t worry, you can still fix it. You only have to tell him again somewhere he can actually hear you.” 

“I _ can’t _...” 

Isabela gives me a stern look. “No, that’s enough self-pity. You’ve already proven that you can do it. Now get back in there, get him away from everyone else and tell him properly this time.” 

But I'm feeling increasingly convinced that my declaration was a one-time-only act of stupidity. I don't think I could even look Anders in the eye right now, never mind repeat those mortifying words to him. 

I can tell from the looks on Isabela and Merrill’s faces that they’re not going to let it slide. I can refuse to do what they say, but there’s no chance that they’re going to leave me out here to mope by myself. I wonder if I should just go home. 

I’m not given the chance to decide on that before I hear a voice that makes me start. 

“Oh, there you are! What are you doing out here?” Anders looks questioningly between the three of us. The looks Merrill and Isabela give me are practically screaming _ now’s your chance! _But Anders doesn’t give any of us time to respond before he says, “Never mind. I just wanted to let you three know that I’m heading off. Someone’s getting a taxi back to Darktown so I’m going to hop in. I’ve got to go now, though.” 

“No!” Isabela complains. “You can’t go yet! It’s still early.” 

Anders gives Isabela an amused look. "It's getting on for two. Besides, this way I get to split the fare." 

Isabela waves that off. “Just stay with one of us if that’s the problem.” 

Merrill pipes up, in a rare display of deviousness, “Yes, I’m sure Hawke has the room.” 

Or maybe she’s genuinely trying to help. I can never tell with her. 

Anders gives a little flustered laugh and his eyes meet mine briefly before darting away. “That’s okay. I really should go now while I can. Got a lot to get through tomorrow.” 

Isabela sighs her disappointment. I can’t tell if I feel the same, or if I’m relieved that I don’t have to deal with the Anders situation now. It’s only when he glances at me again that I realise I haven’t said a thing to him since he came out. Normally, I’d be with Isabela, trying to convince him to stay. 

“You okay?” he asks me. 

I swallow. “Yeah. Fine. I’ll uh... I’ll speak to you soon, I guess.” 

He tries a smile but still looks a little uncertain. “Yeah. Of course. I’ll try to be more available... um, if I can manage it. Though I’m not sure I can make any promises,” he finishes the sentence with a slightly awkward laugh. 

I fail to think of a typically sarcastic response to that and instead, I try to smile as normally as I can back at him. I'm not sure how well I manage it. 

Isabela huffs loudly. “Fine. Go home then if you must.” She steps towards him and hugs him goodbye. When Isabela releases him, Merrill steps forward and hugs him too. 

“Don’t be a stranger,” she says. “You’re far too tricky to get hold of.” 

He laughs a little. “I’ll try my best.” 

He looks at me after that and, as embarrassed as I feel, it would be weirder if I didn't hug him too. So I do it, and I try to ignore the ridiculous tug of longing that comes as I briefly hold him close and let him go. "Goodnight, Anders." 

I hope I don’t sound as stupidly miserable as I feel. 

Anders bids us all goodnight and waves as he heads back inside to find whoever he's sharing his taxi with. 

Isabela looks at me for a moment and then sighs. “Come on, after all that, I think it’s definitely time for shots.” 

“Ooh, yes, that sounds like fun!” says Merrill. She turns to me. “Will that make you feel better, Hawke?” 

I think about it for a moment and raise a questioning eyebrow. “Tequila?” Isabela and Merrill cheer their approval and their enthusiasm makes me feel a little better already. “Come on then. I don’t see how it could make things worse.” 

* 

Maybe two hours later, I’m lying on the floor in Merrill’s bedroom. Except it’s not really the floor. We just dragged the mattress off her bed and put it there, along with all the cushions from her sofa to make an even bigger bed so that there would be room for all of us. Merrill is sitting with her back against the wall and I’m lying on my side with my head in her lap. Isabela and Fenris are here too, similarly snuggled up, which is a rare sight. Fenris only ever seems to do snuggling when we make a nest out of Merrill’s bedroom like this. So it happens occasionally; that is, when we’ve been out for as long as The Hanged Man will have us and the walk back to Hightown starts to seem a lot less appealing than Merrill’s offer to make us whatever kind of tea we want back at her flat. It helps that her flat is just a few minutes' walk away from the pub. And that she has a lot of tea to choose from. 

I want to tell Anders that he really should have stayed after all because he would have really liked nesting with us. We have pretty much every piece of bedding Merrill owns piled up on top of our makeshift bed and it’s so cosy with the four of us cuddled up like this. He probably really likes cuddling. He seems like the type who would like it. 

I really want to cuddle with him. 

I can’t tell him what I’m thinking about because Fenris has my phone. He took it off me when I started saying that perhaps Isabela and Merrill were right after all and I should just get the _telling-Anders-how-I-feel-but-properly-this-time _thing over with. I was thinking that there was no reason he shouldn't be able to hear me over the phone. Or by text. Texting seemed like a good way of going about it. Fenris didn't seem to agree though. 

We put a film on to watch while we drank our tea but even after making the switch from alcohol around an hour ago, I’m still far past the point of being able to follow much in the way of storyline. I can feel Merrill’s fingers softly stroking my hair in a way that’s incredibly soothing but it’s not enough to stop a few stray gloomy thoughts from making their way in as I remember Anders again. I sigh. 

“What is it?” Merrill asks me. 

“I wish Anders was here.” 

“We know you do, sweet thing,” Isabela mumbles sleepily but not without sympathy. 

“If you’re right and Anders just didn’t hear me earlier, do you think it even matters? Like, do you really think he even likes me like that?” 

“Oh, Hawke, you know I really do,” coos Merrill. “You just normally look so comfortable around each other. I’ve always thought you’d make such a sweet couple if you could only figure things out.” 

This is why I love Merrill. She’s just so nice. 

“I’m sorry that your plan didn’t work and you all ended up having to listen to me whine like Varric did last week.” 

I hear Fenris snort softly at that. 

Isabela says, “Don’t worry, you’ll get him next time.” 

I can only hope I do. 

Though I have to admit that as things stand, I’m more doubtful than anything else. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was [this cover](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0O_yyEA72HE&list=RDMM0O_yyEA72HE&start_radio=1) that loosely inspired Anders and Merrill's song in this chapter but I do find it a lot funnier to listen to the Mariah Carey version and imagine Anders singing it. Also I was imagining that the song Fenris sings as Johnny Flynn's [Hard Road](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vLRCEBer0Jk) for no other reason than I think it would sound pretty in his voice. Not really a necessary point to make but I thought I'd share it with you anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realised when writing this that I actually have no idea how medical degrees work and whether the teaching takes place at a university or at a hospital. So I did some research and came to the conclusion that it could be either, depending on the uni. I also found out that graduate entry medical courses are a thing, which is convenient because that’s what Anders is doing. So it’s his first year doing that and I’m just hoping it’s reasonable to believe that he’d have lectures/tutorials on campus or that he could take a two hour lunch break if he wanted to. If not, then we’re all just going to have to live with it now because research never has been my strong point.

I only manage to leave Merrill’s when I do the next day because Fenris threatens to leave without me and I know I’ll just stay here all day feeling terrible if I don’t go with him. I hope the walk will help with the hangover at least. 

As we step outside, Fenris reaches into his jacket, pulls something out and hands it to me. My phone. I’d forgotten he had it. 

“Thanks,” I mumble. I think about why exactly he had to take it from me and give him an apprehensive look. “How embarrassing was I last night?” 

Fenris smirks a little. “No more than usual.” 

“That’s really not in any way reassuring.” 

“Nor was it meant to be.” 

I sigh. “Great. Good to know.” 

I turn the screen on and see a few notifications there, one stands out above the rest. A short series of texts. 

** Anders: **

_ Feel kind of bad for leaving when I did before. _

_You looked sad _

_I’m sorry. I hope ur ok xx _

Fenris must see my face fall – which really says a lot for how perceptive he is, as I’m sure I was already looking pretty worse for wear before I saw the message – because he gives me a questioning look. I know he’s not like Merrill and Isabela and, if I told him to, he’d simply let it go. But he’s also just as willing to listen as they are. I pass him the phone and let him read the messages. 

After passing it back to me, he says, “You’re worried that his apology is for causing the upset and not simply for leaving you after he noticed it.” 

Like I said: _ perceptive _. 

“Bingo.” 

“If I were Merrill, I would most likely be assuring you of the latter.” 

“But what do you think?” 

He shrugs. “You would have to ask _ him _.” 

I close the message and slip my phone into the pocket of my jeans. “Maybe later.” I think I can only deal with one thing at a time right now and I feel like shit in more ways than one. “Want to get breakfast?” 

Fenris hums his approval. “Let’s do that.” 

* 

I’m sitting on the living room sofa later that afternoon, watching some silly comedy on Netflix that’s about all the mental stimulation my hungover brain can handle right now, when my phone buzzes. I don’t expect much when I pick it up from the coffee table but I’m stunned when I realise it’s Anders again. I haven’t replied to his messages from last night yet and I’m used to having to wait days to get a reply from him anyway so, no, I really wasn’t expecting to hear from him again so soon. 

** Anders **: 

_ So as far as late night drunk texts go, I don’t think last _ _ night’s _ _ were too embarrassing. Definitely could have been worse. But all the same, sorry if I bothered you. _

No sooner have I read it, than another text comes through. 

** Anders ** : 

_ though I realise you were probably still out and not trying to sleep when I sent them. _ _ So _ _ it’s probably obvious that I'm still just trying to check up on you now, aha... _

And I’m just as confused as I ever was. 

I try to think of how to respond. _What were you apologising for?_ is to the point, certainly, but perhaps not enough so._ I tried to tell you about something last night and I'm not sure if you actually heard me. Can we talk and clear things up? Preferably in person. _(Which would probably require an added:_ Unless you did hear, in which case, that’s fine and please ignore me._) I don’t know... maybe not. I mean, it would get the job done but am I really ready to commit to telling him? 

I groan and toss my phone away from me. Then I change my mind and pick it up again because maybe it's true that a gloomy Sunday afternoon, when I'm feeling shitty and hungover, is not the best time to be making decisions like this and maybe it's fair enough if I want to wait for another day – _ but _ I can’t exactly just ignore Anders when he’s sent me five messages in a row expressing concern over my general wellbeing. 

** Me ** ** : **

_Hey, no worries, you weren’t bothering me. Fen just had my phone so I didn’t see your messages till today._ _I’m doing as well as can be expected considering the horrific amount I had to drink last night. I really need to be stopped._

Satisfied that I sound friendly without giving too much away, I put the phone down on the empty sofa cushion behind me and turn my attention back to the TV. But I hardly get into it before my phone buzzes again. I’m sure it must be a coincidence and Anders can’t have replied already but as I look down there’s another buzz and, sure enough, it’s a message from Anders. 

** Anders: **

_ Perhaps I really should have stuck around. Clearly Merrill and Isabela are a bad influence on you. _

_ didn’t end up getting much sleep last night anyway. _

I stare at the screen in surprise for a minute, then type a reply. 

** Me ** ** : **

_ Am I hallucinating? Or did you really just reply to a text within five minutes of receiving it? _

I’m just waiting for it to be a fluke but, once again, the reply comes quickly. 

** Anders: **

_ Oh, ha _ _ ha _ _ ! _

_ Here I am, trying to be a good friend but sure, give me a hard time about it. _

A smile comes to my face and my response to that comes quickly, without having to think about it. 

** Me ** ** : **

_ Teasing you is too much fun _ _ tho _ _ ;) _

I think for a moment and then find myself typing: 

** Me ** ** : **

_ It would have been nice if you had stayed. I’m sorry if I made things weird last night _

I hit send before I can rethink it and wait, not even bothering to put the phone down this time. The response takes just long enough to give me the impression that he’s had to stop to consider it. 

** Anders: **

_ You didn’t? You just seemed down when I was leaving. I thought I might have interrupted some serious discussion. And then I guess I felt guilty for not sticking around to see if I could help. _

I am thrown by this. And I’m this close to asking, _ so you didn’t hear what I said? _ But I don’t do it. Because if the answer is no, it’ll make him ask what I did say and I don’t think I can answer that via text. Sure, it wouldn’t be as awkward as announcing it in front of all our friends. But somehow it doesn’t feel right. 

How would I even go about doing it though? Work up the courage (again) to tell him to his face? Write him a letter? A love song? 

Something to think about later, I decide. 

** Me ** ** : **

_ you don’t have to feel bad. That’s not why you couldn’t sleep is it? Ha. _

** Anders: **

_ Aha. No comment... _

** Me ** ** : **

_ Oh _

** ** _ ) _ _ : _

_ Wish I’d had my phone to reply to you now. _

_ really though, the period after you left is a little fuzzy but there were definitely tequila shots. Then we went back to Merrill’s. I woke up this morning in a three-way spoon with her and Isabela. _ _ So _ _ I guess I must have had a good night. _

_ I got to be the littlest spoon. If you were curious. _

Anders’ reply is just a string laughing cat emojis. 

** Anders: **

_ Sounds like fun. I wish I had stayed out with you. _

I grin, planning to remember that. 

** Me ** ** : **

_ Well now I have that in writing. I can use it next time you’re threatening to ditch us early _

** Anders: **

_ Fair enough, I guess? _

_ For _ _ now _ _ though I really have got a lot of reading to get through for tomorrow. I’d better get to it before I let myself get too distracted. _

** Me ** ** : **

_ I have been known to have that effect on people _

** Anders: **

_ ;) don’t let it go to your head. _

** Me ** ** : **

_ Too late! I’m telling everyone I monopolised your attention via text for an entire half hour. They’d never believe me if I didn’t have the proof right here. _

** Anders: **

_ hahaha _ _ ... ok then what’s it going to take for you to keep this a secret? _

I’m about to make another joke when I realise the opening I've been given. I nearly chicken out, thinking I’ve already made enough of an idiot of myself in the last twenty-four hours and I should probably at least try to minimise the possibility of it happening again. But I can’t help but feel that this conversation is not, in fact, the result of Anders reaching out to assure me that we can still be friends despite rejecting my confession last night. I think he didn’t hear. I think I might have a chance. 

** Me ** ** : **

_ Let’s not wait another month to _ _ meet up _ _ again. _

_ We can get coffee? Lunch? Or just come hang out at mine. _

_ Whatever’s good for you. _

Then I’m just sitting there with the words _ no big deal _ on repeat like a mantra in my head that maybe I'll eventually start to believe if I repeat it often enough. I’m also trying really hard to ignore the slightly ill feeling I have while waiting for him to reply. 

When I see his response show up, I wonder why I was so nervous. Because I’ve already established that we’re still friends and friends spend time with each other. That’s a thing. No big deal. 

** Anders: **

_ You’re wasting a perfectly good blackmail opportunity on getting me to hang out with you? _ _ Haha _ _ ... _

_ I would have done that anyway :P _

_I __do_ _have a fairly packed __week but if you don’t mind meeting me at campus one day we could definitely get lunch._

** Me ** ** : **

_ I'm free _ _ thursday _ _ ? _

** Anders: ** ** **

_ I think that could work! _

_ I have a _ _ tutorial _ _ at 2 though so I get it if you’d rather wait until sometime when I won’t have to rush off. _

** Me ** ** : **

_ No that’s fine _

_ Or, you know, we could always do both _

_ if you want. _

Thankfully, I only have to sit there wondering how much of an overeager fool I sound for a moment before a reply comes through. 

** A ** ** nders: **

_ sounds good to me :) _

I end the conversation wearing the sort of grin I don’t think I could hide if I wanted to. It’s still there when Fenris walks in a few minutes later, causing him to raise an eyebrow at me. I just smile back at him. 

“You talked to him, then?” 

“Yeah.” I think for a moment then tell him, “It’s not exactly sorted. But I think we’re good.” 

“That’s a relief.” 

I smile wider because though he says it with no real inflection, I can tell he means it. 

“We’re getting lunch on Thursday.” 

Fenris smiles. “I’m glad, Hawke.” 

I’m glad he doesn’t ask me if it’s a date because I think admitting out loud that I don’t know might put a damper on things. For now, I’m just happy to bask in the knowledge that I haven’t completely fucked things up with Anders. 

After a moment I have a thought that makes me turn back to Fenris and say, “Don’t tell the others, okay, they’ll be weird about it.” 

He gives me a knowing look. “My lips are sealed.” Then he smirks. “For the moment, at least.” 

With that, I realise I'm not being let off the hook, even by Fenris. Eventually, I _ will _ have to tell Anders the truth. 

* 

There’s a beauty to our plan to meet for lunch that I didn’t notice when I suggested it. We agree to meet at the university campus library at midday and figure out where to go from there. That gives us two hours before Anders has to be at his tutorial. It’s entirely casual. No pressure for anyone present to come out and admit to being secretly in love with the other. That kind of thing is obviously too heavy for an early Thursday afternoon. 

I try not to think of it as a date because that just feels like I’m getting my hopes up too far (it’s all very casual, remember?) But it’s difficult not to think about the fact that I don’t really remember a time that Anders and I have ever met up without someone else from our group there with us. We’ve seen each other outside of music night occasionally. At the odd party, or one time we even got him to come with us on a trip to the beach. This is the first time it’s ever just been the two of us. I’m certain I'd remember otherwise. I wonder if Anders had noticed that and I wonder if he’s pleased that I asked him. 

It’s embarrassing how nervous I am at first. Then I’m amazed by how easily that feeling evaporates when I see him. He’s a little late but the smile he shoots me when he sees me more than makes up for the wait. 

We decide to get lunch at a nearby café. The place Anders brings me to does a lot of very healthy-looking veggie stuff, which makes sense, I guess. It looks exactly like the kind of place Anders would like. Not at all fancy. The walls are kind of garishly painted and covered in paintings by local artists and the furniture looks well worn. Anders tells me that we can go somewhere else if I prefer but the food here is good and cheap and apparently they’ll give me a lot of it so I'm sold. I figure could probably do with eating more vegetables anyway. I tell Anders this and he looks relieved. “Same, actually. I’ve been subsisting mainly on ginger nut biscuits for too long. I need something with actual nutritional value.” 

In some ways its strange being in such a different setting with him. I realise that the majority of other times we’ve spoken we’ve both either been drunk or on our way there at the very least. It’s different. But it feels natural. Easy. I wonder why we’ve never done this before and all I can come up with is that I always just assumed he’d be too busy so I never asked. From listening to Anders talk about his week so far it seems to me that it’s true, he has been busy. But he made time for me anyway. 

I don't tell him how the thought of that makes me feel. I wonder if I should but I don't. Instead, we just talk and it's normal and it's wonderful all at the same time. And when it's time for Anders to either run or risk being late for his tutorial, we both promise to do this more often. 

I tell him, “If you ever need a distraction from overworking yourself, let me know. I’ll be more than happy to oblige.” 

He looks back at me as he’s about to walk away and he grins. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

By the time I get home, I have a few hours before I have to head out for today's music lesson. I pick up my guitar and begin to idly strum. 

I’m feeling more strongly than ever that this feeling I have – this warmth that fills me whenever I so much as look at Anders, the desire to always hold on a little longer at every touch – it’s not something I should keep to myself. Is it really such an absurd notion that this feeling could be returned? 

It might be possible. It really might be. 

I stop picking out the rough little tune that's come to me over the last few minutes I've spent lost in thought and I put my guitar to the side. I lean down and grab a notebook and a pen from the drawer of my bedside table. I flip it open and tap a blank page a few times with my pen, thinking for a moment before I start: 

_ Guess I’ll write you a love song... _

* 

Anders and I see each other more often after that. I wouldn’t go as far as to say we’ve fallen into a routine because Anders is still Anders and as much as he needs to allow himself time off every now and then, he seems to feel guilty about doing so. But we do meet for lunch a few more times. I figure, Anders needs to eat and I’m not entirely confident that he doesn’t forget that himself a lot of the time. A couple of these times occur when I _just happen_ to be near campus and perhaps I’ll also happen to have food with me at the time. Too much to eat on my own: _Why don’t you join me Anders? _

I hope to begin with that the complete obviousness of going about it this way will help things along. And perhaps under normal circumstances, it would have done but Anders is distracted. Spring is coming to a close and exams are looming. I can see that the workload is getting to him more than usual. Seeing Anders away from The Hanged Man gives me more cause to worry about him than I'm used to. I'm not sure what to do about that. I don't want to be overbearing in my efforts to check up on him and I know that there could be a fine line between distracting him just the right amount to help him relax and distracting him in a way that could impact him negatively. I text him now more often than I used to but I'm still holding back. 

Thoughts of telling him my feelings, of making the _ something more _ I've been thinking about so much lately a possible reality, have taken a back seat. 

One day I meet Anders on campus with lunch and he smiles apologetically at me. He still doesn’t always reply to the messages I send him. But he tells me that they’re appreciated. The look in his eyes is tired and yet the smile he gives me is genuine. 

While Anders and I are in contact more often than we've ever been before, I still see the others much more than I do him. Isabela, for one, does not seem impressed by my progress. 

“I get that exams are a big deal to Anders but coming from you it still just sounds like an excuse.” 

“Seriously, Bela?” I turn to stare at her where she’s perched upon the countertop in mine and Fenris’ kitchen. “You think I should be making him deal with all my feelings and shit even though he clearly has a lot of other far more important things to think about right now.” 

Isabela waves me off with some slight irritation. “I get that part. But his exams aren’t going to go on forever. What’ll next month’s reason not to go through with it be, I wonder?” 

Wow. Now she’s just being mean. “Did I do something to provoke you?” I ask her, narrowing my eyes in her direction. 

"Oh, I don't think so," Merrill pipes up from the sofa. Our living room, kitchen and dining area are just one reasonably sized room, so Merrill is more than able to hear the conversation from where she sits in front of the TV. "I'm fairly sure Isabela's just cranky because she's hungry, aren't you Isabela?" 

“Kitten,” Bela replies with more patience than she’d probably allow for anyone else for calling her out like that, “that is beside the point.” She turns back to me and adds, “What I want is to see my friends happy. It pains me to have to watch you sabotage yourself over and over again.” 

I blink at her, not sure what she expects me to say to that. I tell her, “Dinner will be ready soon enough. Be patient.” Then I turn back to the stove. 

I didn’t invite Anders over with the rest tonight because I know he’s working but I’m cooking vegan food anyway. I’m practising. Because, okay, I’m thinking that once Anders’ exams are over maybe he’ll have more free time and maybe he can come over and I’ll cook for him. I’d like to feel like I could impress him if it came to that. 

I hear Bela huff and hop down from the counter. I glance at her to see her wander back towards the others. 

“You know, personally, Hawke, I think you’re doing very well,” Merrill tells me. “And it’s very nice of you to consider what’s best for Anders right now.” 

“Thank you, Merrill,” I say, turning around to beam at her. 

Isabela rolls her eyes as she picks up the bottle of red wine from the coffee table and refills her glass. 

“But you will tell him once this is all over, won’t you? It would be a shame if Isabela was right about this after all.” 

Everyone gathered on the other side of the room, Isabela, Fenris and Varric, seems amused by that and my smile falters a little. “That’s, er... that's the plan.” 

Varric snorts. “Well, there’s an improvement. At least.” 

I frown at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Simply that the intention is there where it wasn’t before. That has to mean something, right?” 

They stop to consider this and I sigh. “Feel free to change the subject at any time. My love life – or lack thereof – is not as fascinating as you all seem to think it is.” I really am forever regretting my terrible habit of making it everyone else’s business whenever I’ve had a few too many. That needs to stop. 

Eventually, the subject does get changed to something, if not more interesting, then certainly less invasive. I finish cooking and serve up my experiment; a concoction of vegetables and spices that seems to go down reasonably well with my test subjects. The one downside is the inevitable speculation over my recent interest in plant-based cuisine and who exactly that reminds them of. I inform my friends that as of tonight I am turning over a new leaf. My nights of getting drunk and crying like a lovesick teenager are in the past. They all look at me doubtfully and I decide I'd better go easy on the wine just in case. 

We finish eating and since it’s Friday night and no one is any rush to get home Fenris opens another bottle of wine and I manage to successfully derail the conversation from the topic of Anders and me. For a while, anyway. It’s starting to get late when my phone lights up with a text. 

** Anders: **

_ I’m wondering if your offer to provide _ _ distraction _ _ when needed applies to unsociable hours? could really do with it right now. _

** Me ** ** : **

_ It applies wherever it’s needed :) _

_ and I’m not sure if 11 on a _ _ friday _ _ night counts as unsociable. At least, there is a lot of socialising going on already in my living room right now. _

_ if this isn’t a strictly over the phone thing then you’re welcome to come and join us? _

** Anders: **

_ u sure? I might still be able to make the last bus... _

I blink down at the message in surprise and feel a stir of excitement. 

** Anders: **

_ not sure about getting back _ _ tho _ _ . Do you think anyone might be able to share a cab? I assume it’s _ _ merrill _ _ and _ _ bela _ _ with _ _ u _ _ right? _

** Me ** ** : **

_Y__eah.__ And Varric._ _either that or they’ll be staying over which you’re more than welcome to do too. Might be a bit crowded but we’ve managed it before_

I’m not sure what I expect him to think of that. I really hope the prospect of possibly not being able to get back to his own place until morning doesn’t put him off too much. Now that I've been faced with the possibility of getting to see him tonight, I feel as though the disappointment if he changed his mind would be crushing. 

I decide that the time for playing it cool has passed. I type out another message and quickly hit send. 

** Me ** ** : **

_ don’t worry about it anyway. If you want to come then you should. I’d be happy to see you. _

All that is missing is an obvious string of heart emojis. I’m a little embarrassed by how nervous I feel waiting for a reply. Then it comes and I stand no chance of hiding the big grin that breaks out on my face from the others. 

** A ** ** nders: **

ok _ I'm heading out. Will any bus to _ _ hightown _ _ do? _

_ let me know your address _

I reply with the number of the bus that stops closest to my building which I think he should still be in time to catch. Then I tell him my address and which stop to get off at. 

Then I look up to see everyone staring expectantly at me. I give them what they want. 

“Anders is coming over.” 

I’m not sure that the level of cheering that this inspires is entirely necessary but it makes me grin in spite of myself. 

“So,” says Isabela, all business, “do we need to clear out? I’d be more than happy for Fenris to come to my place if need be.” She gives Fenris a look that makes him raise an eyebrow in return. 

I don’t give him a chance to reply verbally. “No! I already told him that you’re all here. Everyone, please promise me that you’re not going to make this weird.” 

“If that’s what you’re after, you might want to look into finding a new set of friends,” says Varric with a smirk. 

“Yes, weird is a particular speciality for most of you, I’m aware of that. However,” I take a moment to look each of my friends in the eye, “I have faith in you. You can do this.” 

Isabela rolls her eyes. “What do you think?” she asks the others. “Should we go easy on him?” 

“I doubt we will hear the end of it if we don’t,” is Fenris’ dry response. 

“I’m not sure we’ll hear the end of it either way,” corrects Varric and Fenris looks at him as if to say _ touché _. I am deeply disappointed in each of them, although I hardly know why. 

“You must be very excited, Hawke,” says Merrill. “Anders doesn’t usually come over here. Or does he? I suppose I wouldn’t know.” 

I give her a slightly nervous grin. “No, er, he never has... So it’s pretty... um, yeah...” I feel ridiculous admitting out loud that I’m actually over the moon that Anders agreed to come tonight. But I think they can probably read it on my face anyway. Especially if the indulgent smile Merrill gives me is anything to go by. “Look, it’s still – this doesn’t change anything. Anders still has a lot on his plate. I don’t want to put any pressure on him.” 

Isabela sighs. Varric says, “Patience, Rivaini. They’re on the right track now. They’ll have to figure it out eventually.” 

I ignore Varric and ignore the feeling that I'm becoming used to my friends talking about me like I’m not even here. I think about this being Anders’ first time coming over to my flat. I think that it’s probably better that it’s happening so unexpectedly because if I'd had time to overthink it, it’s likely that I'd have taken it to the extreme. I already have friends here tonight. Anders is my friend. I try to convince myself that it’s as simple as that. 

I think about whether Anders will be able to find the building. I text him again. 

** Me ** ** : **

_ I could meet you at the bus stop if you want? _

It takes a few minutes for a reply to come through. 

** Anders ** ** : **

_ Hey, I’m on my way :) you don’t have to do that. I got a map up on my phone already. _

** Me ** ** : **

_ you sure? I really don’t mind. _

** A ** ** nders: **

_ Really, don’t worry about it _

I wonder if there’s a line between _ friendly _ and _ too much _ that I’m crossing and decide to let it go. 

** Me ** ** : **

_ ok _ _ ok _ _ but call me if you get lost. I'll come to your rescue ;) _

** Anders: **

_ Is it strange how much I like the sound of _ _ that... _

After that, I have to fend off some enthusiastic probing into what Anders is saying to make me smile at my phone like that. I slide the phone into my pocket and try to come up with a distraction while I wait to hear from him again. 

It’s around half an hour later that I get a text from Anders saying that he’s outside. I take a moment to remind myself that we have spent time together plenty of times before now and that just because this time we’re at my house is not something to overly excited or nervous about. 

We don't have a system for buzzing people up, or at least not one that seems to work. It's a nice enough flat but by Hightown standards, it's not that fancy. It's also a fairly small building, consisting of only three flats – one on each floor – we're on the first so I don't have far to go to get to the front door and let Anders inside. 

He looks like he always does these days: tired, a little unkempt. He’s wearing an old t-shirt, slouchy floral printed trousers and sandals. Which is cute. Also, brave, considering it’s night time and not actually that warm out. 

“Hey,” he says as I grin at him and stand aside to let him in. He gives me a slightly awkward look. “I hope it’s not too weird for me to come over so late.” 

I’m genuinely puzzled that he would think it might be. “Not at all. I would have invited you to come earlier but I thought you were working tonight.” 

He looks... I don't know what to think of it. He's bothered by something but the small half-smile he gives suggests he's pleased to see me at least. 

“I was supposed to be but I switched shifts at the last minute. I went in this morning instead. Then went to lectures, then went home and accidentally fell asleep and woke up about... an hour ago.” 

“Oh,” I say, uncertain, “well, rest is good, right?” 

“I suppose it is... I know I should be making up for the revision I missed this afternoon now but, I don’t know, I just couldn’t face it.” 

Oh. So that’s it. 

“Would I be correct in assuming you were at it for most of last night and got hardly any sleep before your shift this morning?” 

He winces slightly. “Okay. Apparently, you know me too well.” 

“I don’t know. I feel like I could still get to know you better. I certainly wouldn’t mind it.” 

He smiles properly at that and I mentally congratulate myself for seemingly managing to be charming rather than awkward. It’s always so difficult to predict which it might be during any given conversation. 

“Come on,” I say, gesturing to the stairs. “We’re on the first floor.” 

I lead him up to the flat, push open the door and hold it while he steps inside. We go straight through to the living room and kitchen area where he’s nearly barrelled over by a tipsy Merrill and Isabela. He looks surprised at first then pleased by the enthusiasm with which the greeting is delivered, the exclamations of, “You really came!” and, “Finally!” 

“Um... sorry I’m late?” he offers. 

Fenris and Varric have looked up from their conversation. Fenris nods a greeting and Varric calls, “Hey there, Blondie.” 

Anders returns the greeting but he’s a little distracted by Merrill, who is practically hanging off his shoulders, with her arms around his neck, as she says, “We’re really made up that you decided to join us. Especially Hawke. He looked so happy when he got your text earlier...” 

“Merrill...” I interrupt in a slightly strangled tone. She looks at me and her eyes widen a little. 

“Er, I mean... oops.” 

It seems I greatly underestimated how much more drunk my friends have managed to get than I have when I was talking about having faith in them earlier. 

I sigh and peer at Anders. There’s a surprised flush on his cheeks as he looks from Merrill to me, and then slowly, a pleased smirk forms on his lips. “Really, Hawke?” 

I laugh a little. Awkwardly. Then I shrug and look him in the eye as I answer, “It’s always good to hear from you, Anders.” 

His smile finally reaches his eyes and I have fucking butterflies in my stomach at the sight of it. Really. 

Isabela says, “You two are adorable.” 

So apparently neither of them had any intention of not being weird about Anders coming over. I should have known. 

But, at the moment, I'm not entirely sure if I mind. 

Somehow, throughout this, Merrill has remained loosely hanging from Anders’ shoulders. Isabela steps in and scoops her up. “Come on, Kitten.” 

Merrill curls around Isabela as she carries her away in a way that reminds me more of a drunken koala than a kitten and looks back worriedly at us as she whispers a bit too loudly, “Did I ruin it? I hope I didn’t ruin it.” 

“Shh,” Bela replies fondly, “we’ll see how it goes.” She looks back with a smirk before she plops down onto the sofa. Merrill stays happily cuddled up to her and murmurs something else that I don’t catch this time. 

I turn back to Anders, trying to push back the mix of embarrassment and, oddly, delight at how well he seems to be taking this situation. 

"So, uh... did you eat? Because I cooked earlier and there are leftovers if you want? It should be fine for you to eat. I mean, it’s not got anything animal in it. You can have it if you're hungry." 

I’m cursing myself for rambling like a fool but Anders’ face brightens and he looks eagerly over towards the pans left out on the stove. “Really? That sounds great.” 

“Well, I know how you like real actual food that isn’t just biscuits. Glad I made far too much.” 

I get him some food and a drink and we go and sit with the others. Varric has taken the one armchair we have and the sofa is being taken up by Fenris Isabela and Merrill. That leaves Anders and me with a couple of cushions on the floor. 

Looking up at the others, I get the impression that Isabela is satisfied for now. 

We play cards for a while until Varric is the first to decide to call it a night. It seems that I don’t have to worry about the others deciding to head off with him because Bela and Merrill are over in the kitchen mixing more drinks. I’d be concerned about that but I'm selfishly more relieved that they don’t plan to be leaving and taking Anders with them any time soon. I’m even more relieved that even though Anders has the chance now to go and get a taxi back with Varric, he doesn’t take it. 

It’s getting late but Isabela finds a film to put on in the background while we talk and the conversation ends up mostly revolving around how bad it is. Though Varric has left the armchair free for one of us to take, neither Anders nor I have moved from our places on the floor. Instead, we’ve simply shuffled back to lean against the sofa in the space where Isabela and Merrill’s legs have been tucked up to make room for us. Anders’ shoulder is touching mine. He ducks his head as he laughs at some silly joke I’ve made about what we’re watching and I smile fondly down at him. I’m feeling very preoccupied by how happy I am that he’s here. 

We’ve been like this for a while when I hear Merrill speak up behind me. “Fenris,” she says slowly and he makes a small noise of acknowledgement, “how much room would you say there is in your bed?” 

There’s a pause and I twist my head around to look at them. Fenris blinks at Merrill, “Excuse me?” 

“I mean, how many people do you think could fit in it?” 

Fenris just continues to look at her in confusion. 

“Only,” Merrill continues, “I’m beginning to feel just a little bit sleepy. I imagine Isabela is too. And you know how the journey back to Lowtown starts to seem much longer when it gets to this sort of hour.” She blinks her big round eyes innocently up at Fenris as he frowns back at her. “I’ve never been in your room before so I wondered if all three of us would fit. Hawke did say we could stay but I just wouldn’t want to kick him and Anders out of this room if they’re not ready to go yet.” 

Fenris' only answer is to continue to stare incredulously at her but Isabela is smirking, having caught on to Merrill's plan. "Oh, I'd say there's room for three in there." 

The implication that, unlike Merrill, Isabela _ has _ seen Fenris’ bedroom before is not lost on Anders and he laughs. “I knew it,” he whispers gleefully and when I see Fen’s cheeks darken slightly with a blush, I can’t help my amused smile. Isabela flashes us a grin. 

“Even if it does get a little _ cosy _, that’s hardly something to complain about, is it?” 

“I do like cuddles,” Merrill agrees. 

I look to Fenris and see a small smile touch his lips as he shakes his head, giving in. Though he gives me a look that efficiently lets me know it’s for my sake that he’s going along with this. “Let me show you the way,” he replies coolly before draining the last of the wine in his glass and setting it down on the coffee table as he gets to his feet. The girls giggle and climb up off the sofa. 

“Have fun, you two,” Bela calls to us as she and Merrill practically skip from the room, giving no indication that they really are tired at all. A faintly smirking Fenris follows more slowly behind them. 

I stare after them for a moment, a little stunned by how quickly that all took place. When I turn to Anders see him laughing quietly with his head in his hands. I have to laugh too when he eventually pulls his hands from his face and says, “They haven’t even an ounce of subtlety between them, have they?” 

“I don’t know,” I chuckle a little awkwardly, “I’d say Fenris does, but I think Merrill and Bela together manage to cancel it out.” 

He grins at me and I don’t know what to say. I’m suddenly very aware that it’s just the two of us alone in my living room and I’m not sure how to proceed. 

There has probably never been a more perfect opportunity to let him know how I feel. We’ve been so comfortable together all night. There have been enough signs that he would react well to it. But it’s the thought of my earlier promise not to put him under any more pressure than he already is that makes me pause. And knowing that without anyone to share a taxi home with he’s more or less stranded here. Would it even be fair to... 

And, fuck, I’m really overthinking this. 

I swallow. Look away. 

"I er... I guess your plans to share a cab with the girls has been scuppered. Though, as I said before, you're welcome to stay. There's plenty of room." 

“Are you sure? I can probably still get a taxi by myself...” 

I glance at him. “It’s no trouble.” 

He smiles more tentatively than before and I wonder if it’s because he’s picking up on my nerves. “Okay... Though I’m not really tired yet anyway.” 

“Oh, me neither.” 

I know Anders has the excuse that he's only recently woken up from an overlong nap but for me, I think it's only that fact that he's here that's keeping me wide awake. 

“Do you want another drink?” There’s still wine left in the bottle open on the table but I don’t think it’s wise for me to go near it right now so I suggest, “I could make tea?” 

“Sounds good.” 

I am simultaneously relieved by the excuse to get up and do something and annoyed with myself for letting the moment earlier slip by me. I get to my feet and gather some of the glasses that have been left and take them over to the kitchen. Anders follows, grabbing the empty wine bottles from the table on the way. 

“Thanks. You can just leave them there for now.” I gesture to a spot on the counter, planning to take them to the bottle bank tomorrow. Then I put some water on to boil. “We don’t have as impressive a selection as Merrill does but we have a few things: chamomile, peppermint... er, sleepytime – or something like that...?” I open the cupboard to check. 

"Is the stuff that makes cats go a bit bonkers?" He laughs. "Yeah, that's it!" 

I look at Anders with amusement, “What?” 

“I left some of that tea out in the kitchen and Ser Pounce-A-Lot utterly lost his shit for it. Would have chewed through the whole box if I’d let him.” 

I laugh. I’ve become so used to Anders referring to his cat as _ Pounce _ before that I nearly forgot his full name. “Ser Pounce-A-Lot is a fantastic name for a cat.” 

Anders beams at me. “I’m glad you agree. You clearly have excellent taste.” 

My own smile widens at the praise and I feel at ease again. I pick up the tea in question, give it a sniff and wonder why I bought it. Then I think, _ well if it’s good enough for Ser Pounce-A-Lot... _and I make two mugs of it. 

We take the tea back to the sofa area and place the steaming mugs down on the coffee table while we wait for them to cool. The others are gone now and the sofa is free but Anders, first to take a seat, settles back down onto the cushion on the floor that he'd vacated earlier. I could question why but I choose not to. Rather, I follow his lead and occupy the cushion beside him. There's no lack of space to use as an excuse this time but neither of us says a word about it as we sit close, shoulder to shoulder. 

I turn my head and take in the sight of Anders, relaxed and smiling faintly. Perhaps I look a little too long because he turns to me, raising an eyebrow in question. 

I’m not going to run away this time. I don’t want to. But I’m still not entirely sure how to broach the subject. 

“I’m... just thinking that it looks like our distraction tactic did you some good after all.” 

He smiles wider. “I’m glad you invited me over. Thank you. I forget how much a change of scene can help sometimes.” 

“Happy to help... You’re always welcome, you know. I know it probably wasn’t what you had in mind. But now that the others are gone, if there was anything you wanted to talk about...” 

Anders shakes his head, still smiling. “No. I mean... I’m just happy I get to see you.” 

I think my heart just about stops at those words. And then it starts again, only faster so that it’s nearly all I can hear. 

“I... yeah. Me too... I’m happy to see you too...” 

There have been moments in the past when I have demonstrated a certain capacity for smooth talk. It is not an impossible feat. And yet, in this moment when I feel I would most appreciate it, it seems to have abandoned me completely. 

But Anders doesn’t seem to mind. He looks as pleased by my admission as I am with his. 

And here we are again already, on the floor in my living room, alone, already touching. If I was wrong about this, I think I would already know. 

“Like... really happy,” I clarify, probably unnecessarily. 

And fuck it. Because the way he looks at me when I say that... I’m not imagining it. 

Being shoulder to shoulder already, there’s not much room to move closer and still watch for any clues his expression might give. I turn a little, wanting him to see. But I’m hesitant. I don’t know how I would say it. I’m thinking that if it can be said without words, I would like that a lot better. So I look at him. I shift my hand a little from its spot on the floor beside his and without looking away I feel his fingers under mine. I see shades of brown and gold in his amber eyes as they widen, surprised and, I think, hopeful, as he realises what I want. And I’m finally sure. I duck my head and he moves to meet me when I kiss him. 

There's a second where it's just his lips, a little dry but still soft, moving tentatively against mine. Then his hand goes to my neck, his fingers in my hair as if wanting to pull me closer. My fingers curl around those of his other hand, on the floor between us, holding onto him tightly. Angled as we are, side by side, I can't pull him against me the way I'd like to without potentially breaking the kiss and I don't want to yet. I just want to feel this... 

He makes a small noise of contentment and a rush of joy comes over me causing my lips to curl involuntarily into a smile against his. 

Then he kisses harder and I respond eagerly. He breaks away just long enough to reposition himself. I catch a glimmer of need in his eyes as he moves and then he’s in front of me. He flips one leg over mine and then his body is pressed close, over me. He doesn’t hesitate, just lowers his head back to mine and I feel the swipe of his tongue against my lips as he pushes me back against the sofa. I happily allow him to deepen the kiss, so unbelievably relieved to finally know that he wanted this too. 

I couldn’t appreciate Anders’ enthusiasm more but as he presses me into the front of the sofa it gives a little and slides back just slightly over the floor. I’m already thinking about how good he would feel under me on those plush cushions and I think a small relocation might be in order. My bedroom would be good too but the sofa is much closer. 

I fold my arms more tightly around him and move, lifting him with me. 

He kisses me, mumbles, “_ Yes _ ,” against my lips then kisses me some more and I laugh, pleased by his approval. I pull us both to our feet, hardly breaking the kiss as we go, then I lower him down onto the sofa cushions beside us. The movement separates us just enough for him to murmur another enthused, “Fuck, _ yes _.” I’ve never seen anything like the look on his face before, his mouth slightly parted, his eyes hungry and locked on mine. I can’t get enough of that look but, equally, I can’t keep from kissing him again. I lower my body over his and deepen the kiss once more. I try to be careful to keep my weight distributed evenly as we slowly end up more horizontal but as far as I can tell, Anders seems to be pretty into it. 

I don’t know what it is that makes me lean upwards when I do, some indeterminate amount of time later. Maybe I just want a moment to let my brain catch up with the rest of me, to soak in the sight of Anders below me, pressed into the cushions by my weight and staring back up at me with that look of lust in his eyes, breathing hard through parted lips that I’ve just kissed and kissed and kissed. I drink in the sight of it. I’m just opening my mouth to tell him how gorgeous he looks, to try to express how awestruck I am by the sight of him like this, by finally being able to touch him, kiss him, the way I’ve wanted to for so long. But before I find the words, I catch something in the corner of my eye. 

I push myself up and sit back, putting my weight onto my calves so that I don’t squash Anders’ legs, tangled beneath mine. “Hawke?” Anders questions as I peer over the back of the sofa. I see two wide green eyes peeking back at me. Merrill’s face splits into an encouraging grin and she gives me two thumbs up before going back to feeling around behind the sofa. 

“Merrill... what are you doing?” 

"Don't mind me, Hawke. I'm sorry, it's very bad timing, I know. Oh, hello Anders! I was just looking for my bag. I nearly forgot that I'd left it in here." She holds up a dark green patchwork tote bag by way of evidence. "Though I thought I had another satsuma in here... And, oh yes, here it is! It must have rolled under the settee." She reaches down and returns with the small orange fruit held triumphantly in her hand. Then she looks between Anders, who has untangled his legs from mine and pulled himself upright to see what's going on, and I and the happiest look spreads across her face. "Oh, I'm so pleased for you both, truly! Though I suppose I should let you get back to it, shouldn't I?" 

"We'd - er – appreciate it," Anders responds drily though the look on his face is a fairly amused one. I feel the same actually. I'm not sure I can be annoyed with Merrill and in any case, I'm far too happy right now for that to be ruined by something like this. 

"Oh, look how happy you both look!" Merrill looks positively giddy but I can't imagine it's anything close to what I'm feeling right now. She gazes at us for a moment longer before remembering herself. "Okay, I'm sorry! I won't interrupt any longer. Goodnight, Hawke. Goodnight, Anders! I'll see you in the morning!" 

Then she skips from the room. 

I turn to Anders, take in the slightly stunned look on his face and let out an elated laugh. I couldn’t get the grin on my face to smooth out into something less stupidly obvious if I tried. 

“Did that really just happen?” Anders murmurs, still looking over at the door Merrill just closed behind her. 

“Which part?” 

“Any of it,” Anders laughs as he turns back to me. The look on his face changes slowly. “Fuck... Hawke...” He looks at me, awestruck, and it’s nearly more than I can take. 

I swallow. “Well, if you want to try the first bit again, just to be certain, I definitely won’t complain.” 

Anders laughs and it’s a sort of surprised sound. I slide my hand across the back of the sofa, where we’re both still leaning, and take one of his hands in mine, tentatively lacing our fingers together. He looks down to where our hands are joined, then looks back to my face. 

“I didn’t think you would want this,” he breathes. 

“Are you kidding?” 

He shakes his head but I feel his fingers gripping my hand just that little bit tighter. “I’ve just...” Again, he shakes his head. “No, never mind.” 

I scoot a little closer to him, saying, “Hey. What is it?” 

He looks at me uncertainly. “I think at this point you’ve known me long enough to have an idea of what an incredible mess I am... It can’t exactly be appealing.” 

I blink at him in surprise. “I don’t think I've ever thought that about you.” 

He looks doubtful. “Never?” 

“Not even once. I kind of figured all that kissing a moment ago might have made this obvious but, Anders, I find you _ extremely _ appealing.” Then softly I add, “I don’t know what you think you’ve done to put me off...” 

I bring his hand up to my mouth to kiss his fingers. He stares. For a moment I panic, wonder if I've read this all wrong. 

“Oh... Maker...” he whispers. He lurches forward, kissing me fiercely and I think, no, it definitely wasn’t that. 

Soon, all thoughts of whatever might be causing Anders to doubt are driven from my mind. We can come back to it later if we have to. For now, I'm resolved to prove to him how very much I want him. I feel Anders relax. He responds eagerly to my touch. I eventually begin to think that perhaps the sofa isn't the best place to let this continue. It's difficult though when I'm feeling so comfortable and happy right here. I dare to slip my fingers under his shirt as we kiss slowly and slide my hand up along his side, indulging in the feel of his skin like I've never been able to before. And Anders gasps into my mouth and pushes his hips against my thigh in a way that very easily reminds me of why it would be a good idea to move. 

“Anders,” I say, kissing him again, then pulling back to look at him, “would you like to come to my bedroom now?” 

Anders nods, breathing heavily. “Uh huh. Yes. I thought you’d never ask.” 

I grin and I pull him up with me as I sit. Then kiss him again. 

If someone had told me this would happen tonight – that I would be pulling Anders to his feet, kissing him, leading by the hand out of the living room, to my own room, to my bed – assuming I actually believed them, I might have expected to be nervous. But I’m not. It feels right. He lies back on my bed, reaches out for me to follow and it feels more right seeing him there than I could have even imagined. 

Following him down onto the bed and leaning in close, I tell him, “You’re amazing. Unbelievable. So fucking sexy. I still don’t know where you could have got the thought that I wouldn’t want this.” 

He presses his thigh between my legs and smirks at my reaction. “Yes, clearly you forgot to mention that I’m also an idiot.” But his amber eyes shine with happiness. He kisses my mouth first then drags his over to my ear, nipping lightly before moving down. He murmurs, as he trails kisses down over my neck, “I don’t know what I was thinking.” 

I laugh breathlessly. “Not an idiot. Not by any stretch of the imagination. But I am glad you’ve seen sense.” I dip my head to kiss him properly again then add breezily, “I’m going to have to start taking your clothes off now if that’s okay.” 

He grins then kisses me hard and though that seems to be a very enthusiastic_ yes _ to that suggestion, he adds, “Please - please do.” 

So that’s exactly what I do. 

I hear his breath quicken as my hands slide back underneath his shirt, pushing it up this time as I go. I break our kiss to help him up as I pull his shirt over his head. I kiss him lightly as he leans back on his elbows then I move back to look, running my hand over smooth warm skin, down, lightly brushing over his stomach, letting the dark blonde hair there tickle my palm. His trousers do nothing to hide his arousal and I want to see more. But before I let my fingers move to his waistband, I lower my head, let my tongue flick over one pink nipple, hear him gasp, repeat the action. I kiss my way down his chest, press my mouth to the taut soft skin of his stomach and mouth along to where his hipbone juts out. I hear him sigh as I taste his skin. Then I lean back as I tug the soft floral trousers down over his hips then watch as his erection springs free, sooner than I expected. I raise an eyebrow. “No underwear?” 

Anders shrugs but there’s a small flush on his cheeks. “I kind of rushed to get out.” 

I smile as I let my eyes flick back down from his face over his body. “Okay. I’m certainly not complaining.” I tug his trousers off the rest of the way and toss them aside. 

I part his legs so that I can place myself between them. Then I take a moment to take in the sight of him spread out before me on my bed and, Maker, I thought he looked good like that before but now... 

I reach out to touch him and his eyes close, his head falls back, breath coming fast through parted lips. 

“Maker, you’re gorgeous...” I breathe the words and his eyes snap open. For a moment he gazes hungrily at me, then he’s up, kissing me, fingers tangled in my hair, tongue in my mouth. My hand is still wrapped around him so I squeeze and tug, making him moan. 

He pulls back from me, gasping, “You too. First... I want to see you...” 

Then he’s tugging at my own shirt and I’m forced to let go of him as he pulls it up over my head. He nudges me back but I’m pretty near to the edge of the bed as it is, so I get to my feet, standing by the end of the bed. “Take them off,” Anders says quietly, eyes flicking down to my trousers then back slowly up over my chest then back to my face with a smile that suggests he’s feeling pretty pleased with himself. 

I feel no desire to disobey. He leans back on his elbows again and watches as I undo the buttons on my jeans before pushing them down and stepping out of them. I watch his face as I remove my underwear. He shifts forward a little and the smile doesn’t leave his face as his eyes rake over me. I laugh a little feeling slightly awkward from the scrutiny but he grins and tells me, “I’m feeling extremely lucky right now.” 

“Yeah?” 

He grins, gets up and closes the short distance to where I'm standing. “Mmm definitely.” 

He presses himself against me as he kisses me and the feeling of his skin against mine makes me groan. I wrap my arms around him and lift, carrying him back to the bed, dropping him down onto it and descending over him. “Okay, that’s hot,” he gasps but then I'm too busy kissing him to reply. Too busy delighting in skin to skin contact. I move my hips, letting out a stuttering breath at the friction this creates. I want... there’s too much that I want at once. I don’t know where to begin. I pull back slightly, look at him, struck by amazement once more that this is really happening after so long just wishing for it. 

I move my hand up along his side, feeling him shiver beneath me, bringing it up to cup his face. I kiss him as sweetly as I can manage. Then look down at him hoping to convey some small piece of everything I can’t quite bring myself to say. He smiles back at me and I think maybe he gets it. I hope he gets it. I’ll tell him soon, I think. Right now, I just want to keep touching. To keep kissing him. 

It’s some time before we finish indulging, exploring each other’s bodies, before we eventually fall asleep. When we do, Anders is curled around me, warm skin pressed against mine. We haven’t talked about what this is, just touched and touched and kissed endlessly. I think about what he said before about being lucky and how that’s exactly what I feel. I think about Anders sharing the feelings I’ve kept secret from him for too long. I can’t keep the smile from my face so I must still be wearing it as I eventually fall asleep with him in my arms. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lyrics in this chapter are from the same song as the title - [I Got Drunk](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u3tVUe3IHu0) by Miya Folick.

When I wake up it's just me in the bed. As soon as I realise it, I go from half asleep to actually awake more quickly than I think I ever have without the aid of an alarm clock. An intense disappointment sets in too quickly for me to stop it. But I'm not given time to wallow in it before I hear a noise that makes me turn my head and prop myself up onto my elbows.

“Anders?”

He’s standing not far from the side of my bed, fully dressed. There’s an apologetic look on his face. I probably shouldn’t assume the worst, but I can’t quite help the way my heart sinks a little. “Hawke, hey,” he says gently. “I uh... sorry, I didn’t want to wake you. But I suppose it’s probably best that I did...”

“Are you leaving?”

He makes a slight grimace before he answers, “I kind of have to. Got a slightly daunting amount of work to catch up on today.”

I sit up a little further and scrub a hand over my eyes then try to blink away the last of my sleepy morning haze as I consider the words. Shit... I have a definite reason to guilty about that. But apparently, it doesn't catch up with me quickly enough to stop me from asking, "You don't want to stay for breakfast? Or at least a cup of tea or something?" 

"I don't know if I should allow myself to become distracted again. Better to just get right back into it." He looks down at me and must see something of the quiet panic I'm trying to fight back written on my face because his expression softens and he adds, "Not that I don't want to. Be distracted again, I mean. I just can't really afford it right at this moment."

He sits carefully on the bed beside me, on top of the covers. I’m still not wearing a thing beneath them and despite getting to know each other pretty intimately last night, I can’t help but feel strangely vulnerable like this, with him fully dressed beside me, ready to walk out alone.

“Okay...” I frown a little as I give my answer. I want to tell him not to go. But I can’t. He has a very good point and it would be incredibly selfish of me to ignore that. But I feel like I need to say something else and right now I’m not sure what that should be. “Last night...”

“Yeah...” Anders smiles a little soft smile that reignites a hopeful feeling in me and makes me realise that perhaps I’m being an idiot right now. I lean forward and he mirrors the action, raising a hand to touch his fingers to the side of my head as he kisses me easily.

I sigh as he leans back, still smiling. “Good. Good. Feeling a lot better about... things... in general... now.”

Anders raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t think I was going to go without doing that, did you?”

“I’d hoped not.”

He kisses me again before telling me, “I really have to focus this week. But my last exam is on Friday. Then Saturday’s music night so... I’ll see you then, right?”

“Of course.”

He looks me over then and a slightly pained look touches his face. “Do you have any idea how difficult it is walking away from you like this?”

“About as much as it’s going to be watching you go?”

The corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles, even as he disagrees, “No. Not possible. You’ve definitely got the better end of it.”

With that, I get a sense of something he’s not saying. I take his hand. Squeeze it in mine. I’m not talking about walking away any more when I tell him, “You’re going to do great, you know.”

"I don't know about great but... I have to get through it, at least. There's no excuse not to do that." He laughs weakly as if that's a joke. 

I kiss the fingers of the hand I’m holding. “You’ll do more than get through it. I believe that. I believe in you.”

His eyes widen slightly when I say that and I get the impression that he’s probably not used to hearing people talk this way about him. I hold his gaze, wanting him to know that I mean it.

He lets out a breath, after a moment, then says, “You’re trying to make it even more difficult for me to leave now, aren’t you?”

I laugh softly. “I do wish you could stay. But I understand why you can’t. I’m not about to take it personally.”

Anders gets to his feet and after a moment’s debate, I follow him up. He stares, cheeks tinged faintly pink. “Now I know you’re just trying to tempt me.” 

I throw him a grin, only slightly self-conscious, as I pick up a pair of discarded joggers from my floor and throw them on, along with a shirt draped over my wardrobe door. “I don’t know. You won’t let me feed you, or even get you a glass of orange juice. I figure the least I can do is walk you to the door.”

We go to the living room to get the sandals and phone he’d discarded there last night, and he does take a drink of water before heading out, which makes me feel at least a little bit better. 

At the door to my flat, we stop and I kiss him, long and slow this time. If he thinks of it as a distraction or a temptation then he doesn’t complain. He smiles as we say our goodbyes. Then I watch him go and as I close the door and head back to the kitchen, I’m thinking that it’s going to be a long week, waiting to see him again. But even so, I can’t quite keep the smile off my face.

*

I’m stirring milk into my tea when Fenris appears in the kitchen.

“Good morning Fenris. Did you have a good sleep?”

He looks at me knowingly.

“About as well as can be expected considering that there were two wriggling, giggling women taking more than their share of space in my bed.”

I raise an eyebrow. "What kind of wriggling?" He scoffs, shakes his head, dismissing the question. I just laugh. "Okay well, I'm just going to assume you loved it. You wouldn't have agreed if you didn't want them there."

H e shrugs before smirking as he changes the subject. “How about you? Sleep well?”

I’m still smiling as I answer, “Very well, thank you.”

He snorts. “I know you think  that  you’re playing it cool but I’m not sure if you could be much more obvious.”

“Oh, I could be more obvious.” I grin widely. “I just thought I’d hold back from bursting into your room doing a celebratory dance.”

“Thank the Maker for that.” He pauses. “Though I imagine Isabela would have appreciated the confirmation beyond Merrill’s word.”

I nod slowly. “She was jealous Merrill got to see the action, huh?”

“And somewhat doubtful that she did not simply imagine it.”

I'm a little bit offended. "Wow, she really has that little confidence in me?"

“In Isabela’s defence, we have all been given fair reason to doubt.”

I make a dismissive noise but I’m very quickly smiling again in a way that I’m guessing could probably only be described as dreamy. “He’s a really good kisser.”

“And that is where I’m going to ask you to stop.” He gives me a stern look to which I can only return a toothy grin. He sighs and turns to go about making coffee.

A little while later Merrill and Isabela emerge from Fenris’ bedroom. They take one look at my face then Isabela exclaims, “You actually did it, didn’t you?” 

Apparently, the answer is obvious enough from my expression that I don’t need to say anything because I’m quickly enveloped on two sides by hugs and excited chatter. 

“Where’s Anders now?” Merrill asks once she’s managed to stop squealing. 

“Went home. He had work to do.” Merrill looks disappointed but I just shrug a little. “It’s fine. I mean, I knew he wouldn’t be able to stick around all day.”

“Well, then when are you going to see him again?” 

“Next week. Once his exams are over.”

Merrill smiles encouragingly. “I bet you’re really excited, aren’t you? Oh, you are, I can tell!”

It’s kind of wonderful to see how happy they are for me. Even Fenris has this small smile on his face as he leans back against the counter sipping his coffee as he quietly watches us.

“Forget that,” Isabela interrupts, “I want to know which of you idiots finally had the balls to make the first move.” 

I roll my eyes but I'm still far from able to keep from smiling. “It was... mutual. I mean, I think I was the one who made the decision to kiss him. But it was something that felt right the moment.”

“Huh,” says Isabela, “boring.”

“Oh no, I think it’s sweet!” Merrill’s eyes are shining. “Did you tell him you love him?”

“Ah...” And now my face is burning. “Not yet.”

“Why not?” Merrill cries while Isabela rolls her eyes.

“I don’t know... I was just kind of... preoccupied.”

Bela smirks. “Well, that’s something, at least.”

“Look, don’t get me wrong, I’m honestly over the moon that things went so well last night. But it wasn’t quite how I’d meant for it to happen. I told you all yesterday that I didn’t want to put all this on him while he has other things he needs to concentrate on.” 

I consider how quickly I threw away my promise not to be too much of distraction to Anders the second he showed even a spark of interest. And even though none of it can quite bring me down from my high after kissing Anders goodbye earlier, I do feel a twinge of guilt thinking that I perhaps should have waited just a little bit longer.

Isabela disagrees. “Oh like anyone can blame you. You’re a sweet guy Hawke but even you can’t be expected to keep it in your pants when the opportunity was right there all night, just begging you to take it.”

Merrill blinks. “I didn’t hear anyone begging.”

“It was all in the eyes, Kitten, you had to have seen it.”

Merrill nods thoughtfully. “Well now that you mention it...”

“So you don’t think I was being selfish?”

Isabela shrugs, dismissive. 

Merrill shakes her head. “No, I don’t think so.” She brightens. “Besides, he certainly looked happy with how things were going when I saw you.”

Bela gives her a look. “Just how much did you see?”

Merrill grins. “Quite a lot.”

“You didn’t see anything!” I protest.

“But I have quite a good imagination.”

I sigh. “You two were made for each other, you know that?”

Merrill beams at me. “Thank you, Hawke. That’s so sweet of you to say.”

*

Over the next week, Anders and I don’t see each other but we keep in touch. We don’t talk about the night we spent together in any kind of serious way. We don’t even talk a lot, really. But  the fact that he’s thinking of me at all has to mean something.

Despite Merrill and Isabela’s reassurances, I still feel pretty bad about my timing. Anders is nearly all I can think about. I’m not going to just assume that the reverse is true for him, it’s just that, if I were in his shoes, I don’t know how easy I’d find it to concentrate. But then, that’s why Anders is the medic and I’m a musician, I suppose. At least I can channel my emotions into my work. I try to keep my confidence in him anyway. 

Thursday night I text him  _ good luck  _ for his exam the following day and it’s only the following morning that I see a response , sent long after I’d called it a night . I think, well at least I know I’ve not been keeping him from working hard. I don’t reply and wait instead, hoping I’ll hear from him again when his exam is finished. Later that afternoon a message does come through.

** Anders: ** ** _ _ **

_ Free at last. Thank fuck that’s over. _

A moment, and then another message appears.

** Anders: **

_ Maker, I want to see you again. It’s too unfair that I still have to wait _

It’s the first time all week he’s said anything like that and a pleasant thrill goes through me reading the words. Seeing them is a confirmation that now something is really starting here. I don’t want to wait another minute to finally begin to explore it with him either. 

Except that I’m about to head out for a music lesson that will take up the next couple of hours and Anders already told me last week that he’s supposed to be going out for celebratory drinks with friends from his course tonight.

** Me ** ** :  **

_ How bad would it be for me to tell you to ditch the med students tonight and come back to my place instead?  _ _ ;) _

_ How did it go btw? _

** Anders: **

_ok I think but I suppose_ _time will tel__l_

_ And d _ _ on’t say that. I’m far too tempted to actually do it. _

** Me ** ** : ** _ _

_ Sometimes it's good to give in to temptation ;) ;) ;)  _

_ reckon you deserve it anyway _

** Anders:  **

_ :( _

_ Lirene _ _ said she’d come after me if I tried to bail on her tonight  _

** Me ** ** : ** _ _

_ Did you tell her about the incredibly charming and handsome man who hasn’t been able to stop thinking about getting you back into his bed all week _

** Anders: ** _ _

_ Yes. in those exact words.  _

** Me ** ** : ** _ _

_ And??? _

** Anders: ** _ _

_ She told me to stop thinking with my dick :/ _

** Me ** ** : ** _ _

_ completely unfair. If anything, your brain deserves a rest.  _

_ I’d be willing to help with that _

** Anders: **

_ yeah I picked up on that :P _

_ And I will absolutely take you up on that offer _

_ But for now, unfortunately, I did promise Lirene. And though I wasn’t planning on staying long, that’s because I have to work early tomorrow.  _

** Me ** ** :  **

_ Damn.  _

_ Tomorrow night it is then. _

Come Saturday evening, I think Fenris can sense the combination of nerves and excitement that, mostly for his sake, I have been keeping to myself all day. Our usual monthly routine of getting ready and heading out to the Hanged Man feels different this time, despite everything happening pretty much the same as usual.

By the time we get there, Anders hasn’t arrived yet. Nor have Isabela and Merrill.  Varric is at the usual table, along with Sebastian, Aveline and  Donnic . I offer to get the drinks while Fenris joins the others at the table. When I  sit , I pass a pint each to  Varric and Fenris, the others having declined my offer.  Varric’s eyes turn to me and I know what’s coming.

“So, Hawke. I heard an interesting rumour this week.”

“Oh, really?”

“About you and Blondie...”

“Hmm?”

“You’ve really got no thoughts on what that could be?”

“Varric, as I’m sure you’re aware, my habit of oversharing regarding my thoughts about Anders is one that comes about only when I’m intoxicated.” I pick up my full pint glass. “And I’m not quite there just yet.”

Fenris snorts in disbelief. “Perhaps someone should have reminded you of that Sunday morning.”

“Hey, all I told you was that he’s a good kisser – that hardly counts as oversharing!”

I only realise what I’ve said when I see Varric’s smirk. And then everyone else’s raised eyebrows. Fenris gives me a look as if to say,  _ you really can’t help yourself, can you? _ And no, it seems I cannot.

“So the rumours are true. I’m impressed.”

Aveline says, “Good for you, Hawke.”

“Yes, I’m happy for you both,” adds Sebastian. “It’s been a long time coming.”

Donnic smiles and tells me, “Congratulations.”

I look around at each of them. W hat do they think I did? Propose? 

Oh void, they think I proposed, don’t they?

“I... thank you... but it isn’t... I don’t even really know what it is yet. We haven’t really had a chance to talk it through. Can we not make a big deal out of it? I don’t want to make him uncomfortable when he gets here.”

Varric chuckles. “Think you’re going to be repeating yourself with that request. Rivaini and Daisy haven’t arrived yet.”

He’s not wrong about that. It’s not long before Isabela and Merrill do show up but there isn’t much of a chance to go over the request again because Anders comes in only a little while after that.

His eyes meet mine from across the room and I’m so glad that we haven’t started playing music yet because when he smiles, pretty much everything goes out of my head besides how much I have missed that mouth in the past week. How much I’ve wanted to be close to him again, even despite having seen him more in the past month than in several previous months combined. 

As he approaches, I’m not entirely sure of the best way to greet him. We’re not together. We haven’t talked about  whether we’d like to be . I’d assume that means we’re not at a stage where public displays of affection would be anything but awkward. And pretty much all of our friends are sat right here, so that’s public enough for me.

Merrill, bless her, spares me a few seconds of panic by being the first to jump out of her chair and pull Anders into a hug, as she’s already done for everyone present (even Fenris;  always i mpressive, as he’s not exactly what you’d call a hugger). Now I have the illusory feeling of being slightly less conspicuous as I get to my feet to greet him too. He’s missed me too, I think. He as good as told me that much. So there’s no reason not to hug him. Surely that couldn’t be considered too much, too soon.

As Merrill lets Anders go, he turns to me, grinning and I pull him against me. “At last,” I say into his ear.

He laughs softly, arms folding around me as he quietly responds, “I’m wondering why we didn’t think to meet somewhere we’d have less of an audience.” 

So at least it’s not just me. I can practically feel the stares from the table behind me. But I laugh too, and even though there’s not one bit of me that wants to let him go without first getting to kiss him again, I find myself letting go, saying, “Rookie mistake, I guess.”

“Is that  _ it _ ?” complains Isabela. “Months of unresolved sexual tension and it’s seriously all going to boil down to that? Don’t tell me you managed to get it  _ all _ out of your systems last weekend?”

“Not here to put on a show for you Bela,” I tell her, going back to my seat.  I ignore the thought that I sort of am, guitar and all.

I scoot up a little and Anders takes the seat next to me. “I don’t know,” he says, sending a playful smirk my way. “I might be willing if it means not having to wait until later.”

I raise an eyebrow, looking back at him. Okay, good to know. I have to say, I’m tempted. But I’m embarrassed by the feeling of so many eyes on us. Call me sentimental but I have real feelings for this man. I don’t want to make a spectacle of our next kiss. For it to be little more  than a dare from Isabela. I care too much about it for that. 

I can’t help but notice, however, that Anders seems okay with the idea and I find some cruel part of me worrying over that. Perhaps it doesn’t mean as much to him as it does to me. 

I shake my head, forcing the thought away and I grin at him, put my hand on his thigh under the table and squeeze, hoping that he’ll understand the reason for my hesitation. I grapple for some light-hearted flirtation and come up with, “How about I make it worth the wait?”

“Sounds promising.” There’s a certain light in Anders’ eyes that I nearly get caught up in. I don’t see him often enough like this. Present. Happy. Like some of that tiredness he carries with him has lifted for the moment. “What do you have in mind?” There’s a seductive note in the way he says it that is entirely new to me. We’ve flirted plenty of times before but now he makes no effort to hide how he means it and I find myself tongue-tied faced with this side of him I’ve only ever seen glimpses of before.

Fenris’ voice cuts right through my attempt to muster a response, “Remind me why we were encouraging them, again.” 

It’s probable that Fenris has the best potential view of where my hands have disappeared to. It’s not quite enough to make me release Anders’ thigh but I make a note to keep my grip to around the knee area and not wander any further up. Because I do  _ like _ Fenris most of the time. 

“I have to wonder that myself,” Aveline comments.

“It’s because they’re our friends and we help our friends,” Merrill chips in brightly. “Also, it’s very sweet to watch.”

Varric smirks and says, “That’s a nice sentiment, Daisy, but I think it had more to do with retaining our own sanity, rather than anything overly altruistic.”

“A lofty goal,” adds Fenris, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“We may have been somewhat overambitious, yes,” Varric allows. 

I look at their smirking faces and honestly don’t know what to say. I glance back at Anders, who seems fairly bemused by the input so far. “So you all... I gather you knew... about...” He trails off, gesturing vaguely between the two of us.

I laugh awkwardly and perhaps a little too loudly, “ _ Aha! _ You know I think any shot at secrecy might have gone to pot the moment Merrill walked in on us.”

Merrill’s eyes go wide. Or, wider than usual. “What do you mean? Was I not supposed to tell anyone? Nobody told me it was a secret!”

“Relax, Daisy,” says Varric, in a tone that seems kind until he adds, “even if you had been sworn to secrecy, it would have come out within the week. We all know Hawke could never have kept something like that to himself. Sober or not.” 

“Hey!”

Isabela gives me a look. “Hawke, the man is right. When have you ever been able to keep quiet about anything you’re feeling?” 

“What’s really impressive is that Loverboy himself failed to notice for so long.”

Isabela cackles. “Even  when Hawke flat out told him.”

I have to let go of Anders’ leg now because I am unable to keep from sinking my head into my hands in sheer mortification. “Now you’re just being cruel,” I mutter. “None of us are drunk enough to warrant this.”

“Eh, I might just be,” says Bela. I raise my head enough to glare at her. 

I feel the comforting weight of a hand on my back just as Anders’ voice asks hesitantly asks, “Er... which time was that?”

Isabela laughs harder. I even hear Merrill titter a little, though a quick glance at her tells me she’s feeling marginally more guilty over doing so than Isabela. The others, besides Varric and Fenris, mostly look confused. I can’t bring myself to look at Anders. 

Well, I suppose I’ll let them have their fun. I doubt I’m escaping from this humiliation any time soon. 

But it’s Fenris who decides to have mercy on me. “Bela,” he says quietly, though not without amusement, “I think that’s enough.”

She smirks before conceding, “True...” Then, to Anders, “You’ll just have to ask Hawke about that yourself.”

I lift my head a little and turn to look at Anders. He seems confused, a little embarrassed, but also somewhat curious. I squeak, “Later?” Then I clear my throat. “Uh, let’s change the subject. Who needs a drink? Anyone? Not you Isabela. I’m cutting you off.”

“You don’t have the authority,” Isabela replies haughtily. She still has an evil glint in her eye. I consider it warily and wonder if I should perhaps be trying to get on her good side. 

“Sit down, Hawke,” says Varric. “You’re not getting away that fast. Besides, it’s my round. Blondie, what are you having?”

“Uh...” Anders seems a little distracted. 

“Ah, just come over with me. You can help me carry.”

“Um. Okay.” Anders rubs the hand he rested on my back up to my shoulder, giving a light squeeze before following Varric over to the bar. I feel surprisingly relieved at being given the chance to pull myself together before I have to attempt to make normal conversation with him again.

With that, Sebastian, appearing just slightly dazed by the previous exchange, looks around the table then suggests, “So... music?”

“Ooh, yes, what a good idea,” chimes Merrill.

Wearily, I tell him, “I think I’ll sit this one out.” 

After that, our group finally begins to make its contribution to music night. I find I'm not quite able to get into it the way I usually am. I’m distracted. I want to talk to Anders but something keeps stopping me from pulling him aside to do so properly. I find myself waiting for the right moment and never quite coming across it. We play a couple of songs as a group. But, as with the conversation I know I need to have, I can’t quite bring myself to ask him for a duet.

I don't know what I was expecting, or where this shyness has come from. I suppose I thought it would be easier than this. But maybe last week was just a happy accident, a fluke, and in actuality, I am destined to forever be an awkward mess around anyone I like. 

I can’t imagine liking anyone as much as Anders. 

I’m standing at the bar, thinking about this and haven’t actually noticed Isabela approach until she’s in front of me, waving her hand in my face to get my attention. 

“You haven’t actually spoken to him, have you?” she asks me.

I blink and come back to reality.

“Oh, did I need to? I thought you might do it for me.”

Isabela laughs approvingly. “Ooh, I like it when you get all feisty.”

I am a little bit annoyed with Isabela for her teasing earlier but I'm also so used to that just being the way she is that I’ve mostly just brushed it off already. I can’t quite help the smirk that comes to my lips talking to her now. “What is it, Bela?”

“I did talk to Anders.”

“Right. This should be good.”

“Oh, quiet you. I talked to him and, you know, I don’t think he has any idea of how besotted you actually are with him.”

“I already told you I’d...” I sigh. “You know, I’m not actually sure if he needs to know quite that level of detail.”

She rolls her eyes. “Do you honestly mean that? Look, I’m not really one for dramatic revelations of true feeling and _ I’ve lain awake aching for you every night for three years _ , blah blah blah –” 

“We haven’t known each other for three years. That’s an oddly specific number.”

“But the point is that that man over there wants you. And if you would just stop making up excuses and be honest with him, I know it would make both of you extremely happy. It’s as simple as that. Get it done. End the tedious  _ will-they-won't-they _ drama so that we can finally all start thinking about something more interesting for a change.”

“Okay, one: for something that’s supposedly so uninteresting to you, you really do seem to spend an awful lot of time thinking about it. And two:  _ will-they-won't-they _ isn’t even a question anymore because we already did. What more do you want from me?” 

Isabela folds her arms over her chest, heaves a sigh and then just looks at me like she’s somehow seen all the things going through my head. Perhaps she has. Apparently, I am no expert at subtlety. 

Still, I try to pretend at it. “What?”

“Why are you fighting me on this?”

The look she’s giving me is serious in a way I’m unused to from her. I can’t quite bring myself to hold it and I glance away, my gaze coming to rest on Anders back at the table. He’s talking with Merrill and Varric. The feeling I have for him is so intense that it doesn’t take more than seeing him to make it churn inside me. I think I know the answer to Isabela’s question. Yes, I am happy ; I am excited by the prospect of what Anders and I could be. But if I’m being honest, something about the process of getting there from where we are now scares me a bit too. 

“Bela, I like him a lot.” I pause then think, why try to hide it when she already knows. “I love him... You said you’re not big on dramatic revelations but have you ever told someone something like that?”

Isabela’s expression has become rather more forgiving now that she’s seen she might be getting through to me. “Fair enough,” she says. “Perhaps I'm not the best person to be giving advice on this. But I do know something: you’re nothing like me, Hawke. You’re usually so open about these things. You wear your heart on your sleeve. I guess that’s either stupid or brave; I’m never usually sure about that. But I do have a feeling it’s going to work out for you in this situation.”

That may be the most heartfelt thing Isabela's ever said to me. I find one side of my face lifting in an awkward half-smile. "You really think so?" 

She just gives me a look that says,  _ please don’t make me repeat any of that _ . Still, I wonder how she can be so sure.

“What did he say to you before to make you think he doesn’t realise how I feel?”

“He said just that. He doesn’t know. He gave the same dull excuses you’ve been giving all week to desperately hide how badly you’ve been pining for him. So just bloody tell him already. You both want to know what the other is thinking. So ask. Or if you’re going to pretend you don’t care, at least do a better job of it.”

And with that, it seems the usual, slightly less patient, Isabela is back and I doubt I'll be getting any more heartfelt words of wisdom out of her. Though, it seems she does have one more offering for me, as she turns back to the bar, orders something and Corff pulls out two shot glasses and fills them with amber liquid. A risky tactic but I suppose it's been proven to work in the past. At the very least, Fenris isn't here to make me think better of it.

“Take this,” she orders, handing me the shot. “Ready?” 

We down the shots together then Isabela claps me on the arm and says, “Now get back over there and do what you’ve got to do.”

I pick up the drinks I bought for myself and Anders a few minutes ago and do as she says. Or the first part of it at any rate. But, as I approach the table where Anders is sitting, I find the second part seems a little less daunting than it did before. Perhaps Isabela’s pep talk really did the job. Either that or the liquid courage she just had me down. Or maybe it’s just the smile that crosses Anders’ face when he sees me appear. 

I place our drinks down on the table and he looks up at me and says, “You know, you’ve been unusually quiet this evening.”

“I have?”

“Yeah, I think we’ll have to remedy that or I’m going to get worried.” With that, I finally see the slight uncertainty hidden behind his smile. 

“Oh, well hey, that’s the last thing I want.”

“Good to know.” He gets up, reaches for my guitar and passes it to me. “What should we play?”

I take the guitar from him and an idea starts to form in my mind. I look  at  Anders, thinking... Thinking about communicating certain thoughts of mine that Anders might not have picked up on. Things that it seems he might be starting to worry a bit about. Could I really...?

Well, it wouldn’t be the  _ most  _ embarrassing thing I've ever done in this room. 

I tell him, “Actually, I think I'm  gonna – I'm going to play something on my own. Something  _ of  _ my own.  I  – er –  wrote it  a few weeks ago and I kind of thought you could... listen... if you want to.”

Smooth. So smooth. 

Anders is wearing a puzzled smile as he answers, “Uh yeah. Sure. I mean, of course I want to listen.” 

“Great! Uh...” I glance around and notice I’ve gained the attention of a few people around the table. Also great... Isabela has followed me over from the bar and she grins at me in a way that’s either meant to be encouraging or menacing, I’m not quite sure. Merrill is clearer, giving me a thumbs up while Varric smiles like he expects this to be good. 

I think about sitting, then change my mind. I suppose if I'm going to do this, then I'm just going to do it properly. I gulp some of my beer, either because I think it could help, or just because I need a moment, it’s hard to say. I strum, check the tuning and I have the attention of the rest of the table now, along with a few people from other tables. 

“Never played this in front of anyone before... don’t laugh too hard if I fuck it up...” 

It won't be the first time I've played something I wrote here. But this one I've only even practised when I've had the flat to myself. I guess I felt embarrassed at the thought of Fenris overhearing. Ha.

I remind myself: as a concept, still not  as embarrassing  as any of the drunken Kate Bush covers I’ve performed here . 

I glance back at Anders, who has sunk back into his chair, now sipping his pint. I give him a small smile and begin to play the intro. That’s the easy part. I haven’t said in so many words that the song is about Anders but once I sing, he’s going to know. They’re all going to know. But there's no going back now. I wait for the right moment, take a breath, and go for it.

_ Guess I’ll write you a love song _

_ 'cause I got drunk and told you how I really feel about you _

I see the curiosity on his face and try not to think about it, knowing I won’t get far if I do. I just keep strumming. Keep summoning the words I've been going over alone in my room these past few weeks, explaining the ridiculous situation of being so overwhelmed by my feelings that I simply blurted them out for all to hear. Except that he didn’t hear then, did he? 

There’s not much chance of that being the case again tonight.

_ How am I supposed to hold in  _

_ Words need saying _

_ Cool never looked good on me _

_ Guess you’d find out anyway _

I try to smile through the words. Yes, I am ridiculous. I am aware. But that's probably not going to change. And in a way, it's sort of fitting that it would come out like this. It's time to get to the point. Since he seemed to have missed it during all the other failed attempts to communicate it.

_Isn't __obvious to you, to you?_

_ Isn’t it obvious to you that I want you? _

_ Isn’t it obvious? I want you! _

_ Isn’t obvious to you, to you? _

The end of the song is met, not by the usual lazy applause, but loud cheers. Mainly from our table and the friends who have been telling me for months now to just tell him. It might not have got through to everyone in the room that I've just publicly serenaded the man sat in front of me but to everyone aware of the situation it seems to have been fairly clear. 

Anders isn’t clapping. He’s just staring at me. Sort of stunned really. I put my guitar down and make a gesture that’s supposed to say,  _ well, what do you think?  _ He laughs, no less stunned. But happy. That’s good. That, I can work with. And find I do, extremely well, when he launches himself at me, kissing me without a care for the audience we’ve acquired. Though it has possibly doubled with the cheers I got for the song. Now those cheers grow in enthusiasm accompanied by the odd wolf whistle. 

I find I don’t care about the attention because _ holy shit  _ did I miss the feeling of those lips on mine.

Anders pulls back laughing. “You idiot,” he accuses happily. “You were too shy to kiss me before but then you go and do that? You know that after that performance you can’t expect me to hold back, right?”

I grin. “Fine with me. I think I might have been brought around to the idea.”

“Well, good. I’m not done with you yet.” 

He pulls me back against him. We kiss. And I don’t care about anyone else. I just want to show him how I feel. I just want him to know.

*

Anders and I leave the Hanged Man a lot earlier than I ever normally would on a music night. We were having a good time, enjoying each other’s company, as well as that of our friends. But I don’t think either of us could stop thinking about the possibilities waiting for us back at my flat. For both tonight and for Anders’ first free Sunday in what he says is longer than he can remember. Which, apparently he has already dedicated to spending with me, even going to far as to ask one of his housemates to feed Ser Pounce-a-Lot while he’s not home. I hardly know how to feel, torn between anticipation and wanting to savour every second with him as it happens.

We decide to walk back from the pub. It's only about twenty minutes back to my flat and I figure there's no need to rush anyway. Anders seems to agree because right now he's crouched on the pavement, attempting to cajole a small black cat out from underneath a nearby car, in the hopes of being able to pet her. The cat is hesitant but interested. I just stand back and watch as she peers at him from the darkness for a while before slowly stepping out from behind one of the wheels and sauntering forward to sniff at Anders' outstretched hand before butting her head against it. Anders' face lights up.

“Hi there! What’s your name, little one?”

How did he get to be so bloody adorable? 

I fail to keep  the grin off my face as I watch the cat rub herself up against Anders’ leg before rolling over onto her back and Anders’ subsequent joy at having made a new friend. He turns his face up to me. “Don’t you want to pet her?”

I approach cautiously, not wanting to disappoint Anders by scaring the cat away. I crouch beside him and reach out a hand. The cat gives me the same cautious sniff before pushing its head into my open palm, purring loudly before turning back to Anders. 

“She likes me best,” he laughs. “Can’t be helped really. I’ve always had a way with animals. Well, just cats, really.”

“I don’t mind,” I quietly reply. “It’s cuter watching you with her, anyway.” 

In the glow of the streetlight, I can just make out Anders' cheeks turning faintly pink. He lets out a soft embarrassed chuckle. "I don't think anyone's ever called me cute before. Certainly not as an adult, anyway."

“I don’t know why. I’ve found myself thinking it quite a few times.”

He laughs again. “Okay. I guess that’s good to know.” He looks at me, smiling, and though he’s embarrassed I can see that he’s pleased. I watch him and he looks so happy and peaceful crouched here on the pavement, stroking this little black cat. I feel it come over me again, this feeling that I’ve always tried to suppress until now. 

I speak only just loudly enough to know he’ll hear, “I love you.”

His eyes widen as they snap up to meet mine. 

“I, er... I know it’s probably too early to say it. But, honestly, I think up until this point you might have been the only person I hadn’t told. Well. At least not so that you could hear.” I pause and try to smile encouragingly in response to Anders’ shocked expression. “You don’t have to say it back. I just wanted you to know.”

The cat is shoving its head against Anders’ hand, trying to get him to resume his petting but Anders is just staring at me, eyes wide, lips slightly parted. 

I give him time and I'm surprised by how easily I can do so. I'd both wanted to and feared to tell him this for so long and now that I'm here... I'm crouched beside him on a quiet Lowtown street in the middle of the night, watching him take it in, his surprise illuminated by yellow light, and I feel calm. I could never have expected that.

Eventually, he says, voice low and soft, "That was what Isabela told me to ask you about. What the song was about..."

“Yeah... last month at The Hanged Man...”

“I remember. You were upset about something and I kind of had this feeling it was my fault.”

Now I’m the one surprised. “What? It wasn’t your fault! Not at all. I was just being an idiot.”

He smiles ruefully. “I wish you’d just spoken up a bit.”

"Really?" Suddenly there's hope. Even though I know Anders likes me, that he, at the very least, wants to give this a go, that it was more than just a one-time thing. I gathered that already. But this sounds like confirmation so much more. That he's liked me all this time. That my confession was something he wanted to hear. "What would you have done if I had? If you'd heard me."

He thinks about it. As he does, he goes back to petting the cat again, a little more absently this time. His smile widens. There’s humour in it now. “Probably would have thrown myself at you then and there.”

I grin. “Right across the table?”

“In front of everyone.”

“Damn. Well, that was a wasted opportunity.” 

“At least we made up for it tonight.”

“ W e can keep making up for it if you like .” My tone is hopeful and I think that might be what evokes a certain sort of tenderness in his expression as he nods. I can’t help it any longer. I lean in and kiss him softly.

“I still can’t really believe it, you know...” he whispers.

“Hmm?”

“That you really...”

“That I love you?”

His smile is wide this time. Happy. Wonderous.

He says, quietly, “I kept telling myself that it was crazy to feel this way. That it was too soon. We didn’t know each other well enough... or... that it’s not like I’m even good enough for you anyway...”

My mouth drops open, “You can’t  be serious. ”

Anders shrugs and shakes his head at my protest and pastes a smile over the obvious pain that thought has summoned up in him. “It’s been a long time since I felt this strongly about someone. And the last time didn’t exactly end well. If I've been holding back with you, that’s probably why.”

I nod slowly, frowning a little at the thought of him hurting. I’m suddenly seeing things in a different light, now considering the possibility that all this time Anders has felt the same way but for whatever reason hasn’t been able to act on it. I didn’t realise... But he makes it sound like he does feel the same way. That thought is too alluring to allow me to dwell on much else, especially with the way Anders looks at me. That look is enough for me to know it’s true, even before he tells me so.

“But I’m starting to think, hearing you say it... it makes me think it might be okay... it’s okay if I love you.”

Warmth blooms inside me, starting somewhere in the middle and spreading all the way through my body. “Absolutely...” I take a breath then lean my head in against his. “No, it’s... it’s more than okay.” The smile I'm wearing now feels impossibly huge. “I honestly can’t tell you how happy I am right now.”

He grins back at me then closes the short distance to brush his lips against mine before murmuring, “Fine with me. I was already thinking it might be more fun if you were to show me anyway.”

I see the twinkle in his eyes as he makes that suggestion and it sparks something in me that has me kissing him long and hard. Eventually, I manage to pull away and gasping, "Why are we so far from my flat right now?"

“Had to stop and pet the cat.”

Though Anders has been quite thoroughly distracted, the cat still hasn’t disappeared. It’s rolling about on its back, purring away. “Well then tell it goodbye,” I tell Anders, “because it’s very important that I get you back there as soon as possible.”

He does tell the cat goodbye, as I knew he would. Baby voice and all. And I know I'm completely gone because it’s endearing more than anything else . Then we’re both on our feet, hurrying back to my place. Neither of us wanting to wait and the pace we’ve set has us, before long, barely stumbling through the door to my flat before we’re kissing again. Both of us with lips insistent, hands everywhere, near desperate, wonderfully in love and so, so grateful to finally be able to admit it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every time I start writing something new, I tell myself, ‘Let’s not make it too sappy this time.’ Every time, I fail. The truth is, I just can't help myself. Oh well, I hope you enjoyed it. I’d love to hear your thoughts if you did.   
I’m considering writing a one-shot about the back story I made up for Anders that I’ve hinted at a little here. I ended up cutting most of it out of this story because it just wasn’t working from Hawke’s point of view. I’m not certain what I’ll do though because I have another idea for a longer fic that I’m really excited to get started on. But let me know if the one-shot is something you’d be interested in reading anyway.   
Thank you for reading!


End file.
